


A Love to Hide

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bittersweet, Childhood Memories, Clueless about Muggle things, Dementors, Divorced Lucius Malfoy, Fluff and Angst, Growing Old Together, Hurt/Comfort, Imperius Spell, Longing, M/M, Male Love, Mirror of Erised, Requited Love, Romanitc, Secret Relationship, Unbreakable Vow, snucius
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 10:53:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 43,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21427036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Professor Snape receives an unexpected visitor late at night.
Relationships: Lucius Malfoy & Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy/Severus Snape
Comments: 10
Kudos: 50





	1. Chapter 1

The potions master lay in his bed, his mind replaying the shocking events of the Triwizard tournament and its fateful conclusion, Potter’s words echoing in his brain. It was well past midnight, yet he got up, pacing about his room in agitation. A kettle was set to brew under a small flame suspended in the air beneath it. The man’s cold gaze focused upon it in silent meditation.

Soon, the water began to boil and he reached for a packet of chamomile, throwing a handful into a chipped old teapot. Suddenly, a knocking was heard upon the windowpane of his chamber, startling him from the dark paths which his mind was leading him down.

He approached slowly, his wand poised, for he knew of none who would venture to disturb him at such an unseasonable hour, moreover, from without the castle in such a manner.

The tapping continued, growing fiercer, as if with impatience.

As he drew closer, holding a candle in his other hand, he could see a small figure illuminated – it was an owl, its feathers the colour of soot. Snape did not recognize it, nor could he see a letter clasped in its beak, nevertheless, he ventured the risk – believing that the bumbling creature had lost its way in the night and was perhaps the witless pet of some first year student searching for the Owlry.

As soon as the window was open, the bird tumbled in with a frantic beating of wings, almost like it were being pursued.

Severus shut the window quickly in case it were so, as well as from the cold gust of wind which had extinguished his candle. In the darkness he could see the owl’s silhouette moving about his bedside rug, and then, most alarmingly, it began to expand in dark writhing smoke, its wings extending into the arms of a man, growing taller and more angular.

Professor Snape struggled to decide whether he should attack it while it was vulnerable, in the process of its transformation, or wait to see what kind of being it was.

Restoring light to the room, he watched, his back pressed against the furthest corner of the chamber, as the owl turned into the shape of one who he was much alarmed to recognize – Lucius Malfoy.

The other wizard knelt upon the floor, looking at his friend with frightened eyes, so unlike his usual languid demeanor.

“W-what are you doing here?” Snape ventured to speak, approaching him with the candle.

“I am sorry Severus, you must think that I have gone mad to come to you like this, only I knew not where to go on such a night, to seek the comforts of sincere friendship,” Lucius smiled forcibly in unconvincing nonchalance.

“What has happened?” the other wizard knelt beside him, draping a blanket over his shoulders to cover the man’s pale naked figure.

“Oh you do not know yet?” Mr.Malfoy smirked sardonically, “has Potter told no one, or is it that Dumbledore has yet to tell you?”

“I do not care for guessing games, especially not at this hour,” Snape sought to keep his composure while his thoughts ventured to his last memory of Harry in the infirmary.

“The Dark Lord, summoning his neglectful servants about him, had honored myself and the boy to behold the return of his powers,” he spoke with a livid malevolence, his brow furrowed as he pulled the blanket around himself and turned from Severus, standing to face the door and enchanting it from unwelcome visitors and the eavesdroppers. “He saw me there, do you understand? The wondrous Harry Potter. He saw the Dark Lord address me, unmask me, in the graveyard where it was done. You must feel it surely, that his powers are returning,” the wizard held out his arm before Severus, where the Dark Mark seemed as if it had been freshly engraved upon his flesh. “You see what it is to play both sides, perhaps my fate shall be a warning to you – if it is not too late. As for me, I believe my time has come. A day or two, no more, and I shall be sent to Azkaban to await the Dementors,” Lucius wrung his hands as a dread of something worse than death was conjured in his mind, placing him in a near-hysteric state of unrest.

“That is enough,” Severus grasped him by the arm, regarding him with a fierce look of reproach, “pull yourself together,” he scowled. Yet in his chest his heart pounded with the other’s fear, alarmed at what he heard and unable to refute the premonitions which plagued the man, who seemed so greatly changed by that which he had long awaited in dread.

Lucius regarded him silently, feeling ashamed of his blatant weakness, a weakness which was nevertheless cathartic -- to be able to speak of his horror to another living being, one who may in due time follow in his footsteps, a path which he himself had carved out for Severus during their yeas together at Hogwarts. Already it had brought a sickly mixture of guilt and relief, to lay open the fears trapped in his chest and behold the potion master’s resoluteness, however feigned.

“I will help you, I will do all that I can,” Snape drew him to sit upon the bed. He saw the teapot and left Lucius’s side for a moment to pour the water over the soothing herbs.

“I do not wish to endanger you further, indeed it is upon my conscience that I had drawn you into these perilous alliances while you were still an impressionable youth,” he spoke somberly, watching Snape as he moved about the room, so gracious to receive his guest of ill omen. “It is I who should be protecting you Severus...and I have failed you.”

“I am no longer an impressionable youth, but my loyalties remain what they had always been,” Severus answered him, his back still turned as he prepared the tea.

“It is I who has changed – is that what you think?” Lucius felt a strange ache in his stomach as he regarded his old friend; remorse, love and pity blending into one another.

“You are an opportunist, that is all. I have forgiven you your nature long ago.”

Severus brought a tray to him and they both drank in silence, staring at the wall opposite, occupied by rows of books, boxes and neatly labelled bottles, as if searching for inspiration amid those things and their dust, weighing the consequences of the fateful events.

“No – I am merely a coward,” Lucius broke the heavy silence, aware of how discomposed Snape felt beneath his gaze, as if afraid to look at him lest he should see what was already plain to discern. “It is you who is the valiant one. Yet you are covetous and secretive with your virtues and your fine ideals, all who have caught a glimpse of those forbidden dreams and honorable desires will take your secrets to the grave. Then you can be at peace playing the bitter old schoolmaster.”

Suddenly, the teacup fell shattering to the ground as Severus cast Lucius upon the floor, falling upon him with anger, his cheeks burning red.

“You shall not stay here to mock me,” he pressed his hands into the other’s shoulders, his face contorted into an expression of pain and wrath.

“That was not my intention,” Lucius smiled provokingly, “you must pay no heed to my idle thoughtless words. In truth, I find it rather beautiful, your enduring love for Lily, your broken heart. There was a time when I wondered if I had likewise put a dagger through it, when I married that is. I can never forget how you looked then, as if I had betrayed you. And the surreptitious divorce which followed, you must have wondered why I did not come to you then – allowing the empty years to pass by. What a friend I was.”

“Why do you speak of it now?”

“Because I would like to know for certain.”

“Know what?” he hissed.

“If you loved me then more than in friendship.”

“To flatter and amuse you?”

“I shall make the first confession,” Lucius reached out his hands and clasped Severus around the neck, pulling him close until their lips met, roughly at first, then moving in gentle kisses as Snape sunk into his arms. Then, just as suddenly, as if realizing pleasures were not to be had carelessly, the dark haired wizard pulled away, regarding Lucius with a look of uncertainty, disarmed by an aching vulnerability that made his stomach churn with the agonies of longing. A longing that he feared for all of the suffering that it had brought into his life, keeping him from peace and haunting him in solitude -- afraid lest the living fantasy of hope should prove to be nothing more than a game, something to lure him from safety. 

“Why do you draw away Severus, is this not what you wanted?”

“I do not wish to be manipulated or made a fool of.”

“Manipulated? A fool?” his slender hand touched Severus’s cheek lightly as he spoke in gentle tones. “Would you not do all that you can to save me of your own volition? That is what I believe – I trust you Severus, and am willing to provide what evidence I can, if it should soothe your inhibitions. I am sorry, I hope that it is not too late.”


	2. Chapter 2

Snape felt a warmth rise through him as the other’s hand touched his skin, a trembling deep within that was almost nauseating. He did not trust himself to answer, no words came to him which he could allow himself to speak, being so unused to sentimentality, yet craving it with the ravenousness of one who has been starved, believing that he had forgotten what it was to hunger. Yet he was a man still, and could not resist what was offered to him, a bittersweet consolation after years of empty solitude – held out to him was the promise of a warmth which was not to be conjured from the pages of books, nor even from the cauldron of his own mind, with the magic of fantasy and desire, turned upon oneself like Ouroboros.

“What is it that you intend Lucius?” his voice felt as if it were not his own, tinged with harshness while his eyes remained transfixed upon those of the other man like a mesmerized serpent.

“That is what I would like to discuss with you tonight,” Lucius composed himself, lifting himself off the ground and slowly returning to sit upon the edge of the bed. “Is there something that I might wear?” he asked, feeling that his own nakedness added to the uncomfortable sense of vulnerability he had to submit to before the other, as displeasing as it was for him to acknowledge.

The professor picked himself up and staggered to an oak wood closet, taking from it a folded linen night robe which he presented to his guest.

“Thank you Severus,” Lucius accepted it with a gracious bow of his head and put on the loose fitting garment which reached down to his ankles. “Do sit down, there is much that I must tell you – for I have been expecting this day for years, since the fall of the Dark Lord. I am not so arrogant as to think that even a wizard of a pureblood family shall escape such ties with impunity, given how times have changed – notoriety has forever followed in my footsteps, perhaps even encouraged them to greater evils. But I digress, there is something that I must ask of you Severus, something that I will not blame you for refusing.”

Snape sat close beside the other man, their shoulders nearly touching as Lucius’s voice reached him as a hushed whisper. Both felt a disregard for the charm which ought to prevent those without – it was by the shared secretiveness of their natures, as well as that of the matter which pressed upon them, that their manners were influenced.

There, too, was the pleasure of mutual dependence, inviting strange confidences which went unquestioned among intimate friends.

“You are stalling,” said Severus, part of his attention diverted upon the hand which rested upon his knee. He scrutinized it with all the fascination of inexperience; was it a carless gesture or a studied caress, provoking him to distraction. He breathed in the other’s scent as Lucius leaned close to him, making his confidences to one so unprepared for methodical, calculating thought, overcome by a weakness that seemed to obscure his judgement, physical sensations casting a shadow over his usual clarity of mind. 

“So I am,” Lucius Malfoy smiled, his eyes narrowing. “Very well, I will get on with it. Here is my proposition: I presume you know what a Hocrux is?”

Severus grew rigid, speechless as his lip quivered with something between anger and incredulity.

“Allow me to finish, for that is not what I have in mind, not exactly,” he continued, eager to assure him as he observed Snape’s features contort, the professor’s mouth gaping as he struggled to decide how to curse him or insult his sanity. “That is to say -- no unwilling sacrifice will be required, in our case.”

“Do explain,” said Severus, unobservant of the aversion which had suddenly struck him, dispelling something of the cloud of illusion that had been swept over him as he tried to anticipate the kind of plot the man had come to entangle him in.

“Unlike the Dark Lord, my ambitions do not aspire to the height of immortality. I should like merely to preserve my soul from an unnatural destruction,” said Lucius, “It is a horrible thing, to be living yet not alive, to be robbed of even the comfort of death.”

“While I sympathize with your fears, as would any man, I admit I am unfamiliar with the magic you allude to,” Snape searched his memory for anything which may provide valuable, still unable to repel the notion of the Hocrux and what it would mean for his friend.

“The spell shall require you to serve as the keeper of my soul, a most touching way to prove my trust in you, would you not agree Severus?” his lip curled in anticipation as he watched Snape closely. “I shall exist only for as long as you should choose to think of me, to look into the mirror of desire. I know that there is such looking-glass of wonders here at Hogwarts, or so there was, but that is not the one I mean. There is a second, which I have placed in Burkes’s keeping for the time being. If you should consent to this plan, then it shall be yours – I shall be yours.”

The strange entrancing words reached into Severus, transfigured into hopes and longings only vaguely comprehended, yet instantaneously felt.

“Your soul shall be trapped within the mirror,” he ventured to conjecture. “And thereby escape the escape the Dementor’s Kiss. It shall draw upon a void --”

“Yes, the husk of a man,” Lucius was pleased by the other’s shrewdness.

“This is dangerous magic, I hope that you know what you are doing,” Snape felt that he needed more time to weigh the decision properly, not for his own sake, but for that of his friend, fearing that the desperate plot may lead to worse things than that which he hoped to be saved from – only he could not think of a more dreaded punishment for a man, a thing which even to witness was to scar one’s mind with enduring horror. Nevertheless, he felt it would be wrong to commit himself while under the aura of the other wizard’s presence, exerting its influence upon him towards a strange intoxication – he wondered if it was by veiled enchantment that Lucius compelled him or merely through the waywardness of his own heart, pulling upon old cords, pressing him to be malleable to his own desires, forever eager to please.

“I did not make this decision lightly nor without much rumination over the means and the end – yes, I confess even after all these years I have doubts and uncertainties – the magic itself is not fully understood, you can imagine that few would be willing to undertake such experiments unless they were in a desperate plight,” Lucius answered him with sincerity, knowing that nothing else would suffice to earn Snape’s assistances for such a hazardous proposal.

“You mean that you do not know that it will work? Perhaps your hopes are better laid elsewhere – you cannot know that they shall condemn you -- on the evidence of a mere boy,” Snape retorted, battling within himself whether he ought to deter Lucius or encourage him to make the experiment.

“You know as well as I do, it is not just Potter’s evidence that shall play a part in this,” Lucius answered gravely, folding his hands over his stomach. “My reputation precedes me and my enterprising has overreached my influence. The Minister’s indulgence wears thin, for I have made too frequent use of it. Therefore, it is an opportune occasion for a debtor such as Cornelius to strike out his creditor – it would be a most timely way indeed to conclude our business.”

“I need not know of your dealings with Fudge, nor do I presume to know him as well as you do, yet you are not without supporters, and even the Dark Lord may still have need of you,” Severus sought to convince the man and himself that there were other paths to be considered before he should venture to take such risks as he dared to call him to.

“I have entertained the possibility, considered my odds –“

“And what if your estimates were mistaken, an impartial judge –“

“There is no such thing as an impartial judge,” he interrupted, growing weary of the other’s weightless possibilities. “Let us not waste time Severus,” Lucius turned to him with a sharp gaze. “I have decided the matter, on my side. Have you made your choice?”

Severus said nothing, all the while his lips were drawn in the perpetual scowl which his habits had formed.

“I know that you are neither reckless nor a fool, and so it is unnecessary to warn you, yet I feel that I must – you must take care to safeguard the vessel of my soul – if the mirror is shattered, it is difficult to say what the consequences shall be,” said Lucius, taking his silence as a begrudged assent.

“I see that you shall not be dissuaded,” Snape’s face showed his conscience, troubled by misgivings and uncertainty of his ability to protect the other from the harm of the dark magic which lay buried in the unknown. Moreover, he considered his limited ability to keep the mirror from being discovered, wondering what kind of arrangement they should have in order to preserve some manner of sentient life for Lucius, while existing as a mere reflection of his own long-suppressed passions.

The magic was strange and alluring, calling with the fires of temptation, playing upon his desire to possess another entirely to himself, placing him in a position that he had no escape from. Lucius Malfoy would be his, waiting for him in the reflection of the glass. Yet what if it should cast its spell upon him like the mirror he had once known, turning desire into obsession, drawing him away from his waking life. Severus asked himself, what was it that differentiated illusion from reality? If he were to reach out his hand to the reflection of his friend, reach out and touch his very soul, who was there who could be certain, where dreams and life divided. 

“I will do what you have asked of me,” he answered at last, his hands trembling as they lay in his lap, betraying the decisiveness which his voice had reached for.

“Thank you,” Lucius closed his eyes, exhaling as if in relief, so afraid he had been that Severus should deny him his last hope.

He reached out to the dark-haired wizard and took his hand, scarred by age and venomous brews, pressing his lips against it as he had so many years ago, so long indeed that but the faintest outline remained of the pale youth, shy and idolatrous in his love.

Only his eyes, his expressions, remained the same -- how responsive he was to every touch, every word, as if each nerve was more sensitive than that of the average being -- that was why he fought all the more -- to keep himself from being overpowered. Through coldness or indifference, through cruelty and deception – poisoned daggers that were more than what his senses might bear if he did not guard himself against them, passing his life showing only the brittle surface of himself to the outer world.

Severus felt ashamed of the secret pleasure that swam in foreboding, he prayed for some semblance of certainty, words of reassurance, and drank them in gladly as they came to him from the lips of a man whose allurements time had yet preserved in his eyes.

“We shall be together, as no lovers have before us save for in fairytales. You shall possess me absolutely, and I shall feel your thoughts, your moods, and respond to them with all of my being, unable to do otherwise,” he kissed the other’s neck, a part of him afraid lest he should startle the other with his boldness. “Yet this I choose of my own free will, to be yours,” he pressed his cheek to that of Severus, holding him close as they both lay upon the cold bed, their limbs intertwining in a desire to merge into one another as if to become one being, longing for the closeness of love which duty and fate had kept from their grasp. “For as long as you and I live. And if I shall ever be reunited with my body, then it too shall be yours. You will have all that is mine to give. I offer you the Unbreakable Vow.”


	3. Chapter 3

Severus visited Malfoy manor to speak with Narcissa, whose aide was required to look after the body of Lucius. To all appearances, the man seemed as if he had become an invalid overnight with regards to his state of consciousness -- his gaze forever vacant and his responses as of one who hardly hears what is spoken to him. 

It was decided that his condition would be attributed to the severe shock of his impending trial, for which he could hardly be assessed as fit to attend. Nevertheless, due to the severity of the crime, and the pressures upon the Minster to bring the wizard to justice – for he had made many enemies during his active life – there seemed to be little choice in the matter but to present him before the council when the time came. There were some, having seen him, who wondered whether he had not already received the Dementor’s Kiss, recognizing the signs of one who is without his soul. However, such people, most to be found amongst the Aurors, could in no ways assert what they conjectured at, at least not until Lucuis was condemned -- in which case, it would be a rather indifferent matter, albeit a curious one.

As was anticipated, the proceedings went on with or without Lucius’s testimony, and he was sentenced to Azkaban.

...

In the early hours of the morning, Severus carried the mirror up the winding staircase to his chamber, struggling under its weight. Although it was smaller than the one which had long been kept at the school, it was nevertheless about a meter in diameter, encased in a round gilded frame of some antiquity. The professor had at first thought to dispense with this ornament, but at the last minute reconsidered, for reasons that were perhaps more sentimental than practical. The frame, engraved with medieval figures and courtly scenes of bygone days, hinted at the romance of an enchanted world. He hoped that when he looked about these carvings, his imagination would be inspired to wish for something more than the drab hermitage of the scholar of magic.

The professor climbed the steps, taking the greatest care as he cast a spell of invisibility over himself, in case his path was crossed by some inquisitive wanderer of the halls. He could only think of one such probable figure, the old caretaker, yet Flinch did not trouble him. Recalling the man, a pair bright eyes approached him, moving close to the floor, following him as he ascended the steps. Severus gave the cat a kick with the heel of his shoe as it moved between his legs, threatening to be the cause of his fall. With an outraged yowl, it disappeared into the shadows.

Reaching his chamber door, he murmured an incantation so that it should swing open for him, closing behind him as he hurried inside. Sighing in relief, he set down the precious object, leading it against the wall, still draped with a cloth of dark blue material. Pausing to catch his breath, he brooded over the mirror, something preventing him from removing the covering. He hesitated, afraid of what effect the mirror should have on him, even before he had transferred the other’s soul into its depths.

Professor Snape poured himself a glass of tepid water and pulled over a chair from his desk, maneuvering it in front of the looking-glass. His thoughts were unfocused, ruminating over fogged images of the past and the future. A part of him did not wish to know the impertinent truth which lay in the images that would be presented to him, in any case, it was not necessary for him to know them. Again Severus tried to focus upon the work which he had vowed to perform, taking a journal from a locked drawer and examining the miniscule writing covering page after page – documenting his investigations on the obscure magic which he was to practice.

There was disappointingly little in his private collection of books on dark magic and he was cautious when consulting the restricted section of the library, lest it should raise the brow of certain students, whom he himself was often prone to suspect of similar surreptitious perusals. Severus did not know if it was his own guilty conscience or if Potter was following him, at times it seemed as if the youth wished to pose a question to him, yet waivered at the last moment, knowing well that the professor was not one to welcome familiarity from his students, and from him in particular.

He dismissed these worries for the time being, focusing his attentions back to the pages, reading and re-reading them – they were all that he had, prepared from his own resources and those of the wizard who would lend himself to be the material for the spell. Severus held his breath as he stooped upon the ground, rolling the well-worn rug and picking the outline of a floorboard with a pocketknife until he was able to pull it free, revealing an empty cavity beneath. He spoke the words or revelation and a small silver casket was shown to him. Within lay a sphere of glass in which flickered a faint glow, as of distant starlight. It was as he feared – to leave a soul disembodied for any amount of time was detrimental to its essence and he could only hope that the damage was not so severe as to affect his friend permanently. Throughout his readings, he could find exceedingly little on the composition of the spirit, in contrasting disproportion to the profuse quantity of writing on the esoteric, religions, or philosophical aspects of the object in mind. While at other times he might have felt at leisure to follow such tangents, Severus believed it was rather too late to make inquiries into good and evil, and risk provoking further moral scruples. He had made the Unbreakable Vow and there was no withdrawing from the ends which he and the other wizard sought.

The sphere was opened, the silver glowing form floating ethereally between the two halves of the orb. Wasting no time, he began to chant the incantation, binding the soul to the mirror, uncovering it with a decisive motion as he pulled off the shroud. He took care all the while not to look at the mirror, lest this should tamper with the soul’s ability to enter it, if it were already occupied with visions that were unwelcoming to intrusions from outside entities. As he spoke, his tone steady and controlled, fibers of light reached out towards the glass, reminiscent of an iridescence floating underwater towards the smooth surface of a calm sea. At first these strings of light lingered about the hard surface, feeling about blindly, as if searching for a way through. Severus cast the spell that would weaken the firmness of the barrier between his world and that of the enchanted mirror. Tentatively, the fragments of light began to pass within, the surface taking on a glow that was blinding to look upon, yet Severus dared not avert his eyes, for in this stage he would gain power over the mirror, such that it would reveal its secrets only to him.

After some time, the glow began to ebb, sinking deeper into the mirror realm. He could see it receding into the distance, a sphere of light floating through what may have been a dark forest, only there were no trees, no forms, only an abyss absent of all matter save for that of the soul’s essence.

He waited, looking at the strange black depth, a part of him struck with horror by the impression of such absolute nothingness, lest it should reach out and grasp him, pulling him in and trapping him there. The only consolation would be that he would not be alone there, his soul would one day find that of the being with which his fate was entangled. Severus allowed himself no further distraction, for it was time to cast the final spell, that which would close the mirror. The dark surface seemed to pulsate, like someone had cast a stone into a well, the rings which moved from the center point gradually steadied, slower and slower in appearing, until at last the pool of glass was still again. When the man gazed upon it, he saw there the reflection of his own hunched figure and the familiar walls and furniture of his room.


	4. Chapter 4

Snape waited, his heart pounding in his chest

Slowly, the image in the glass began to change. He saw Lucius sitting in an armchair, reading a book by the light of a fireplace. The room was surrounded by darkness, except for the light which came from the flames, illuminating the furniture and the aristocratic profile of Severus’s friend. It pleased him to watch the other, who seemed unobservant of the voyeur who knelt close to the glass, so close that his breath at times caused a fog of condensation to obscure the image. 

The professor watched him turn the pages, shift in his seat and at times reach for a glass which stood on a low table beside him. For a long while he could not bring forth the courage to speak, afraid that the world behind the glass was barred from him in all senses, as one who may look upon the dead but never speak to them, feeling himself to be the wandering ghost amongst the living. How desolate his chamber felt when he caught the shadows which it cast upon him.

“Lucius,” his voice broke out at last, calling to the other. The wizard seemed to pause, lifting his head, yet he did not turn. “Lucius!” he called again, summoning him to the mirror.

Severus felt an electrifying sensation course through his nerves as the man approached the glass, reaching out his hand to the cold surface where his fingertips met that of the reflection.

...

The anticipation he felt to be with him grew more and more unbearable as the days wore on. The professor’s usual impatience with the incompetence of students was strained to its utmost as he waited for the hours to pass until he could return to his chamber again and visit the enchanted mirror. At times he was not aware of how he would vent his frustration upon young Neville Longbottom, as the youth ineptly substituted one ingredient for another in a frantic hurry to add to the cauldron, for the spell called for a quick hand.

Only after the class of students began to swarm out of the room did he feel a short-lived pang of remorse, and moreover, of caution – fearing lest others should detect a change in his nature. His suspicions were forever on edge, in proportion to the covetousness he felt towards the newfound pleasure of possession.

It appeared to him impossible to escape the compulsive desire, unobstructed by jealousy, the greatest enemy of those who are uncertain of their own worth in the eyes of the beloved. Lucius could not but be faithful, devoted, ever-present for so long as his eyes wished to gaze upon his fine countenance. In the ordinary world of men, few could have captured for themselves such a love, mimicking in kind the bored submissive creatures which would ornament the harems of lustful kings. Whether such creatures pined for or resented their master, he could not know.

Only a forced submission was not what Severus sought, guarding himself against exerting undue influence upon Lucius soul, wishing instead, to receive only the attentions that he himself was willing to grant.

It was but his company, his presence, that he would court – when the man’s reflection swept towards him at his call.

Over time, Severus grew accustomed to a vague sense of loss and uncertainty weighing upon him whenever he was away from the chamber, such that it was almost painful.

He felt excited, a blissful sort of eagerness, full of the naivety of a man of younger years, who had not yet had his fill of the possibilities of amorous encounters.

Between the wall of the glass, he felt safe from his desires, as if any indiscretions that he might commit were only thoughts, uncontrollable thoughts for which he need not repent. Yet mingling with this notion was doubt, for even if none but Lucius and himself should know of his weakness and depravity, it seemed to him at times that there was no other soul which he was more eager to honor -- to keep his reputation as one who was worthy of the profound trust that had been placed in him.

Only, the hopeful idea that he might feel reciprocity of affection at times threatened to overpower his nobler aspirations. His thoughts danced with infinite visions of gentle caresses and passionate embraces, all of which could not be denied to him.

Romantic love, something that had long been absent from the monotony of his life, clutched at every fiber of his heart and pulled him in every direction, making it near impossible to maintain the illusion that all was as it had been. He felt a weakness within him, a desire for his own downfall, to be caught in the other’s arms, a feeling which he savoured even in anticipation, spreading through his entire body.

Severus kept his vigil before the mirror night after night. The visions which he saw were like the waves of the sea, taking his soul and his body further and further from the life he had known, until it was but a dim distant island, silent and inhospitable, where he went through the motions of living in the service of others.

...

Lucius strode back to the window, looking out at the nothingness, until, wielding the powers of a deity, Snape began to weave a garden -- clusters of rose bushes sprouting from the earth, outlined by winding paths of gravel, inviting one to wander towards a grove of apple trees, bouquets of lilies, intermingled with the scent of wildflowers tamed to his whim.

Beyond stretched a landscape of forest, a shimmering lake as that which neighboured Hogwarts. All of the graces of nature were cultivated or left to their own devices, in accordance to the professor’s tastes, all in eagerness to please the single obliging onlooker who inhabited the world of the glass.

In that moment, Severus imagined the man’s loneliness, projecting onto him his own feelings of past years – waiting in the dark and desolate realm, the glow of his spirit being the only light to be found within it.

“I ache when I am absent from you, sometimes I feel that it is myself who has been trapped in a realm that is not my own,” said Severus, leaning close to the mirror. “My craving for your presence grows each day – a crying need for something that is always out of reach.”

The figure of Lucius Malfoy did not look at him, it seemed to pass like a ghost through the glass within the glass. Severus could feel it wandering through the garden, which took on a somberness cast upon it by the paleness of the sky, as if swathed in a shroud of mist.

Yet he knew that the spirit had heard his words and was pleased thereby, and each night he would continue to visit it, to pour out his love to it as he had once done to the imperious man it had once been, admired and adored by he who Lucius had taken under his wing.

...

His body was made to recline upon a sumptuous rug of soft black fur, the skin of some rarified beast, over which long blonde hair and white hands appeared in striking contrast. Dressed in evening clothes, as if he had been awaiting to receive some illustrious visitor, Lucius was taken aback by the onlooker’s intentions in having him thus sprawled upon the floor.

He struggled to suppress his sighs of pleasure, his chest heaving with laboured breathing as the pangs of a strange gratification continued in rhythmic waves, invisible hands caressing him between his thighs through the fabric of his clothes. The man’s legs, his entire body, writhed with the overpowering sensations, as did that of the voyeur and director of the sensual act which they shared in, mimicking the pressures he gave upon his own tense body as he watched, enraptured.

Severus enjoyed seeing the other tremble with the pleasures he administered through the mirror, even the reserve with which Lucius held back the moans which he desired to hear. He kept him on the brim of the final throes of delight, hoping to savour for as long as he could the fascinating erotic images which the mirror presented to his eyes. When he could restrain himself no longer, he allowed himself to share the other wizard’s climax, a sigh like that of pain escaping his lips.

Lucius lay curled upon his side, defeated and vulnerable as he gazed at Severus with sleepy contented eyes, with something of reproach in them, making the professor wonder if he had been too bold in his use of the man, as if he had somehow insulted the proud dignity which he still sought to cling to, while making himself the object upon which Severus would play out his long-suppressed fantasies.

Even these scruples were not enough to fully suppress the perverse delight which he experienced as he admired every inch of the other’s body, the wetness between his legs which marred his elegant clothing and the burning which colored his pale angular face. He enjoyed seeing him discomposed and compromised. Gradually, the man had recovered himself, sitting up to tell Severus that the night was waning and that he must rest if he hoped to maintain his position as potions master. Indeed, as their clandestine relations went on, Severus found it harder to focus upon his duties, finding them irksome -- never having had a strong passion in the nurturing of inept or unwilling minds.

He could not tear himself from the strange awakening which his body and mind was going through, at times it pained him to think of the strength of his own longing, condemning himself as one who is weak and corrupted by desire, furthermore, that he was taking advantage of his friend’s dependence.


	5. Chapter 5

One night, upon returning to his chamber, Severus found not the image of Lucius Malfoy but that of a woman, sitting with her hands folded in her lap, dressed in a long white gown, trimmed with lace. Her head tilted to one side with a look of innocence, her features lighting up as soon as she beheld Severus.

The wizard approached the mirror with a frantic gaze, fearing lest the natural properties of the enchanted object had consumed the other’s spirit, leaving only its ability to project illusions. “Lucius -- answer me!” he called out to it, lingering upon the image of Lily, and then looking past her, dismissing her as a false distraction. “Answer! Answer if you may!”

“I am flattered that you should think of me, even when confronted with your own dear Lily,” the woman spoke in a voice that was not her own -- that of he who was shrouded in her image.

“What do you think you are doing?” Severus’s worry turned to anger as he realized what had been done.

“I only thought you might enjoy some variety, and I know how fond you were of Mr. Potter’s fair young bride – would it not be the height of fantasy to have possessed her?” said Lucius.

“I do not wish to be shown lies,” answered the potions master, his tone was harsh, for he detested the associations that the mirror had with falsehood and illusion, so jarring to his romanticized ideals, which had been preserved for so long by having been insufficiently tried by experience.

“Hm I suppose even I had my doubts, whether I would be able to play the part convincingly,” Lucius smiled, reverting to his own form, dressed in a black coat and high collar shirt, leaning upon his cane. “Is it so wrong to have hoped to entertain you with a bit of innocent roleplay? Or have I awakened in you memories too painful to recall? Such long-enduring love can hardly be replaced by idle visions, after all,” he spoke with a tinge of jealousy seeping into his voice.

“What I feel for Lily is different from what I feel for you.”

“Oh?”

“The fainter the authentic memory of her grows, the more prefect and unnatural she becomes. This is perhaps irreverent to say but she is almost like an angel, a ghost of herself, something untouchable – something I could not defile by bringing her within my grasp.”

“A depraved mortal such as I would not dream of taking her place.”

“Your place is foremost in my affections, please know that it is so,” Severus regretted his prior words, sensing that he had caused offense without meaning to. “My love for Lily is ethereal – intangible, something that inspires me to good, but brings me little happiness. I cannot quite explain it--”

“You need not explain. I do not begrudge you your ties to her memory,” Lucius concluded their discussion. “Speak no more of the matter, it is I who must apologies for taking liberties with her much-honored form.”

“Will you answer me honestly if I ask you...” Severus hesitated as he formed the question, “do you despise me, do you despise me in earnest for making you the object of...of base desires unworthy of a friend? Do you bear it because you feel you have no choice, or is there a part of you that...” he dared not finish his thought.

Lucius felt uncomfortable to answer him, yet knew that he had little choice as Severus was constantly troubled upon that subject, and so it was bound to resurface.

“We are both proud, prudish and perverse in turns – still, I would not wish to change you Severus, and can in no way hide that I enjoy most of our...experiments,” he said languidly.

Severus looked at him sheepishly, both embarrassed and pleased.

“Do not worry, you need not say more. You are much given to the dissection of emotions aren’t you. I recommend that you go to sleep early tonight and tomorrow you may tell me how the Quidditch match goes, it will give you something else to think about. As flattering as it is for me, it is unhealthy to dwell upon one subject with such vigorous obsession, wouldn’t you agree?” Lucius seemed as if he were about to retire into one of the rooms beyond Severus’s sight.

“Wait!” Severus called to him.

“What is it?”

“I wanted to say – thank you Lucius.”

“Whatever for?”

“For -- for trying to...please me.”

Lucius said nothing, his back still turned to the other as an amused sardonic smirk passing across his face.

“Oh Severus, it is my pleasure to please you.”


	6. Chapter 6

After concluding the potions lesson and tiding the room with an efficacious spell, Severus hurried to his chamber. Only, as he reached the door, he sensed something was not quite right – the lock had been tampered with. A jolt of fear struck him as he inquired into the lock.

Looking about the room and casting spells of discovery, it seemed that none had been there save for himself, therefore the attempted intrusion had likely been unsuccessful, but as the lock made known its assailant, Severus’s brow furrowed, his hands trembling with anger.

He wondered if he should tell Lucius, or if it would trouble him unnecessarily.

Perhaps it was some rare herb or specimen that was being sought after by the incorrigible trespassers, rather than a suspicion of the professor’s secret life and the one whom he harboured within the confines of his chamber.

Nevertheless, he could not keep his eyes from wandering to Hermione Granger, who was unusually quiet during the following potions class. They were both relieved when at last the class was dismissed, being among the first to exit the room. Snape considered questioning her but thought better of it, lest he should by doing so provoke the girl’s own curiosity, revealing to her the signs of a guilty conscience.

Days passed uneventfully, Severus had over time grown used to the domestic routine of seeing Lucius greet him upon his return, always looking forward to their quiet or adventurous evenings. Usually they would read together or discuss the finer points of particular spells. At other times, when one or the other was downcast, his companion would try to offer comfort, sharing pleasant or amusing memories from days of old as well as hopes for the future. Sometimes they would engage in roleplays of both a sensual and ordinary nature, such as having dinner together, or showing to Lucius some new part of the garden which would bloom according to Severus’s whims. He would also experiment with conjuring fantastical beasts as a means of entertainment, to which the other wizard was glad to contribute.

From their armchairs they would behold mountains, sunsets, forests, and meadows – at times taking inspiration from travel books to bring forth palaces and monasteries of distant lands, populated with illusionary figures in the costumes of various nations. They would visit busy market towns or watch in curiosity the elaborate ritualistic dance of some obscure desert tribes, as seen in moving newspaper cuttings from the journeys of a great explorer. Lucius would play upon the piano and all manner of music was shared between them, collected from the archives of Hogwarts and the reminiscences of symphonies. Each tried to outdo the other in bringing pleasure and amusement to their beloved. 

The room in which Lucius waited for the professor was adorned with magnificent splendor, fitted with furniture suited to the welcoming of a king. Contained within the luxurious apartment, the solitary dweller could recall nothing of how he spent his time when Severus was not there, remembering only his past since he entered the mirror and the moments which they shared together. This was forever an object of wonder for Severus and he regretted that he could not afford more time to Lucius due to the demands of his position as potions master.

Yet the other at all times consoled him on this point, assuring him that he did not feel the loss – believing that the quality of his life had much increased since the loss of his body. Many worldly cares had departed from his conscience, the only fear that remained with him was that the happiness he felt would not last.

“I am your caged bird,” said Lucius, “shall I sing for you now?”

Severus smiled at him as he settled into his chair, a cup of tea placed carefully upon the saucer in his lap as he listened to the other play a slow melody upon the piano, soothing his nerves after a wearisome day.

“As I dine on rare cuisine I thank my benefactor,” a fine feast was spread before him at Severus’s desire, and both imagined the tastes and scents of the succulent fare. Only there was something which seemed to pull at the professor’s heart, as he watched Lucius place the imaginary morsels into his mouth. He had never asked him what it was like, to eat and drink the food of his thoughts, but even then something refrained him from speaking the question – as if to do so was to offend the mystery of their secret world.

After the meal was finished, Severus watched the other bend to kindled the fire, illuminating the room with a pleasant warmth, as the dishes and table seemed to vanish as in the fairy palace of some omnipotent djinn, making space in the view of the mirror for the furniture of a comfortable sitting room.

“What manner of debauchery have you in store for us tonight?” Lucius teased him, sitting down in his usual place, a chair which he had grown to prefer.

“The morning owl post has finally brought us the edition Strauslen that ordered nearly a month ago, I can begin reading it out loud to you if you wish,” he picked up the treasured volume and carefully turned its pages, “there is a particular chapter that –“

“I was in the mood for something else -- some practical magic if you please”

“What did you have in mind?” Severus closed the volume, slightly disappointed but nevertheless intrigued.

“A bit of an experiment,” Lucius said vaguely.

“Well?”

“I am surprised we never tried it before,” he went on, “you can exert something like physical force upon anything in this realm but you can never enter it, while either of us can conjure illusions and shape the objects here to any form. Do you grant as much?”

“I do”

“Well then, what do you suppose should happen if we were to conjure an image of you?” as he spoke, the very thing occurred. An exact image of Severus stood before them, still as a statue. “I imagine either of us could control it, just as with the characters in the plays we sometimes put together, but I think it would be more amusing if you were to play the role of yourself – did you really never think of it before?”

“I had thought of it,” Severus admitted.

“Then why did you not suggest it? I confess, I too have thought of it prior to today – and so I wonder if our reasons were similar from abstaining from this experiment.”

“It tears the belief that we are in the same room, that we are together,” said Severus, “it feels more as if I am looking upon a memory of us.”

“Or a fantasy,” Lucius suggested.

“Is that why you have brought ‘me’ there?”

“Yes, do you object?” in that moment the vision of Severus appeared to kneel beside Lucius, who stroked his head gently with his gloved hand, as if he were an obedient pet.

Severus smiled, amused by the fetishistic picture which he made. Still his cheeks burned with the awkwardness of his feelings when confronted with his own desires.

“Would you like me to undress you?”

“Yes,” his voice answered faintly, his throat feeling dry.

Lucius lifted the other’s chin with the end of his cane, crossing his legs as he leaned forward, smirking invitingly for the kneeling imitation of Severus to kiss his lips. The true Severus imagined the vision moving closer such that he could taste the kiss, Lucius’s fingers slowly working upon the buttons of his clothes. For a moment he grasped the other’s hand, pressing it firmly to his heart, then to his cheek, pressing his lips to the cold leather, a strange sentimentality sweeping over him. In a lustful mood, Lucius pushed him onto his back as he undressed him between caresses and passionate embraces. At times it was the image of Severus whose weight pressed down on top of him, passing his fingers through the other’s long hair, kissing his temple, his half-closed eyes, as he felt soft breathing and heard the rhythm of his increasing heartbeat.

“My Half-Blood Prince,” he whispered into his ear, moving a lock of stray hair from Severus’s cheek.

Lucius’s arms wrapped around Severus’s nude form, receiving the man’s loving touch, yet all the while feeling the beginning of tears well in the corner of the professor’s eyes. Lucius paused, sensing that something was wrong, the image vanishing before his eyes.

“What is it – why do you cry Severus?” his voice was soft with concern as he tried to compose himself.

“It is not real, it shall never be,” his voice quivered and he greatly feared to make a fool of himself before the other. “It is painful – the wall that separates us. I want to be close to you, to touch you, to – “

“Severus, please,” Lucius looked away, not knowing how to comfort him, for a part of him understood the sorrow that he felt. To be so close, yet so far away.

The material figure of the professor sat in his chair, his face buried in his hands, his shoulders shaking in suppressed emotion as the vision disappeared. 

“There is something that I perhaps should have told you – only, I feared what the consequences would be if you should make use of...” Lucius’s voice drifted into half formed thoughts, he had long pondered over the matter and yet could reach no definite conclusion, whether it would in the end bring more pain than comfort to their lives, finally resolving that he had no right to keep it from Severus, as they shared in the same fate.

“Come close to me,” he spoke, such that Severus lifted his head, approaching the mirror as he commanded, not knowing what to think.

“Press your hand to the glass,” he bit his lip, fearing lest he was making a mistake in the decision, but knowing all the same that he had decided to carry through with it, that only time would tell for certain, “push upon the surface, even as it resists you.”

Severus watched as the other wizard began to murmur unfamiliar incantations, his eyes closed in concentration. For some minutes he gazed in longing for what he dared not hope for, already anticipating in his heart that which the other’s pained expression ill accorded with. For a moment, Severus did not know if he could believe his own senses, so strongly intermingled with his desires, that he doubted the truth of what he felt.

His hand had passed through the surface of the mirror.

The professor rushed to embrace Lucius, whose eyes fluttered open in surprise at the feeling of the other’s arms wrapped around him, nearly crushing his breath from him. He heard his own nervous laughter intermingled with tears as Severus continued to hold him. Lucius rested his chin on the other’s shoulder, stroking his back as if to calm him.

“Yes, it is done,” Lucius spoke faintly, “only you cannot stay here, you must understand. Every moment that you are here is harmful to your soul’s essence – tearing and corrupting it, for you have not been properly severed from your body. Your soul is cleaved in two between this world and your own.”

“I am here with you, that is all that I want,” tears began to roll down his cheek as he clung onto his beloved with the recklessness of absolute contentment.

“That is all I want too,” said Lucius, yet his brow furrowed with troubled thoughts. “Nevertheless I fear that I have done you harm, I cannot allow you to remain here. You must depart as soon as you can. I hope that this is enough, enough to show you that I am not far from you, that one day we might find a way to be together again in body as well as in soul. But for now you must control yourself and remember that we must bear the conditions put upon is and be satisfied with the happiness that is within our reach.”

Severus was reluctant to acquiesce to the other, all the while knowing that his was a sounder judgement than his own, clouded by the intensity of his longing.

“Will I be able to return to you, like this, if only rarely –“ Severus ventured to ask him.

“We shall speak of it later, only you must return now,” he held the other man more tightly and kissed him upon the forehead as Severus sunk upon the ground in the weakness which overcame him, wrapping his arms around Lucius’s legs. “You shall forever have my love.”

Lucius helped him to the barrier between the mirror world and that of ordinary men, leaving Severus shaken with emotion and a strange nauseous faintness which he struggled to recover from, remaining on the floor by the looking-glass until the morning. Lucius watched over him all the while, for as long as the man’s heavy eyes remained fixated upon the reflection, his face a mixture of fear, remorse and affection. Yet in Severus’s face there was no sign of reproach, only gratitude and overwhelming love.


	7. Chapter 7

Delirious dreams haunted Severus as his mind moved in and out of consciousness, Lucius’s voice echoing in his brain. Severus felt that he was already entrapped, long before any words had been spoken between them through the insurmountable barrier, which somehow seemed less than the one which had existed while they were both free men.

“I invite and beckon you with all of the enticements that your mind conjures for me to wield”

“I wait for you, languishing in lust”

“Wishful thinking does not satiate the appetite”

“What a lovestruck creature you are. Repressive solitude has made you a captive to your own desires”

“I do not deny it”

“Such wistful eagerness”

“I seek you out always, in my thoughts, in my dreams, even when I am not near you I feel your presence”

“How avidly you profess your love”

“I feel that there is no longer a need for inhibition, you are safe from my cravings, and I am safe from that cruelty, the coldness in your eyes will hide from me as soon as I glimpse it”

“You tarnish your own daydream, the victim of your own forebodings. Could it not be that I am no mere puppet, even here, in the realm of your desires?”

“If I do not appear before you in amorous postures, it is because you are one who prefers to savour his pleasures -- well practiced in the art of self-denial,” said Lucius, his voice like silk.

“My role as Tempter was concluded with the spell – you work towards your own seduction now, Severus. 

“Are you just a willing actor then or the victim of my lust?”

“As I have said, it pleases me to please you. I believe none is more deserving. None has been more patient, more selfless. That is why I chose you as the keeper of my soul.”

Severus awoke in a cold sweat, finding himself reclining upon a bed in the infirmary, while Dumbledore sat at his bedside.

“What a curious memory, I did not know that you and Lucius had been so close,” said the old wizard, offering him a chocolate covered meringue. “Tell me, is it a recent one?”

Before Severus could answer, he could feel himself losing consciousness, induced by a spell by which the headmaster intended to search his memory – searching for a clue as to how the condemned and imprisoned Lucius Malfoy gained control over the potions master.

...

“You are most bewitching in your prudishness,” Lucius smiled, “It makes me wonder if anyone had ever succeeded in coaxing you out of your cloister, unbuttoning the priestly raiment, to expose the vulnerable man beneath.”

“I would be glad if you were to be the first,” Severus felt emboldened by the other’s provoking words.

Lucius beckoned him closer with his finger, such that Severus rose from his chair and knelt before the mirror. The other man regarded him with something like admiration, satisfied with his strange beauty which seemed to increase the longer he gazed upon it. It was not the handsomeness that is commonly praised, nor did it retain the freshness and energy of an easy life. His had been a struggling and striving existence, and he had endured much and hoped for little. The wrinkles upon his face showed the tales of his accumulative years, which at times seemed to say to him that it was too late for him to grasp for the passions of those within whom the fire still burned bright. Lucius was touched by a pity for him which only served to heighten his affection and goodwill. The wish was sincere in him to bring pleasure to Severus, both in gratitude for the help he had given him, but also for the sake of his own heart. For him, marriage did not yield the fruits of love, or if such a thing had once had hope to blossom, the bloom was crushed by the fateful ties which led him to follow the Dark Lord, a path which he had too late learnt to repent of.

Lucius rose from the armchair and knelt on the ground in front of the other man, bowing his head so that they seemed to touch were it not for the invisible wall between them.

“Convince me,” Severus whispered, afraid of his own words. “Convince me that you feel as I do.”

“Banish your fears,” Lucius’s lips touched the cold surface of the glass.

The kiss was returned, an electrifying warmth surging through the other’s body, trembling hands outstretched to the coldness which he could not penetrate.

“It is mesmerizing how tempting you are when forever out of reach”

“I could not be closer, I am a part of you – your soul and mine are intertwined, my thoughts and desires laid bare before you. It is impossible to doubt, if you but allow yourself to look deep within my conscience. Only I do not wish for you to do so, not yet, lest you should find me lacking in restraint.”

Reluctantly, he drew away from their kiss, the more to overpower the other with the enticements of half-consummated love.

“You lead me on to devour and dethrone me as he would controls the realm of the mirror, to yield to you that power –“

“You mistake me Severus, I shall not resist the romantic games we will play, when you return world-weary from your lessons,” Lucius smiled with all of the seduction he could muster. “Then you shall teach me how better to coerce those sweet emotions which have too long been denied to you.”

“It is damnation,” the man’s hands dug into the folds of his robe, “do I sentimentalize those things which are a mystery to me, when in truth, they are only the crude passions of the vulgar. You have known them – what is it like to consummate love?”

Lucius turned for a moment with an amused smile, considering how to answer such a question, both naive and impertinent.

“It is a poor end to many an amorous dream, if the object of one’s desires is found to be unworthy of their pedestal, or if the act is not coupled with the sentiment,” he answered him tactfully. “Indeed I sympathize with your fascination, as I do not think I have myself fully experienced the kind of devouring passion that you thirst after. It is the unique property of my present condition that allows me to be the spectator of the private recesses of your mind – all that it takes is for you to yield but a glimpse to me, and I discover something that you may not confess even to yourself.”

“I would like to think that there is nothing that I would not divulge to you, now that our souls are bound to one another,

“But that is far from the truth, and I forgive you for it. Love must have its secrets,” he said indulgingly.

Snape did not know how to answer, feeling already that they had reached some manner of unspoken understanding.

“I will never forsake you,” he breathed, closing his eyes and concentrating on the image of Lucius.

“You have been good to me Severus, you are kind and gentle in your love,” he said, a note of sorrow in his voice. “If I had recognized my need of you sooner, I cannot help but wonder what might have been.”

“Perhaps all the blessings which we may hope to deserve come to us at their destined time, when we are most suited to receive them in mind, body and soul,” answered Severus, seeking to comfort him, only in his heart he too felt the pang of lost opportunity.

“That I am here with you now, during these dangerous times -- for these moments that are ours I am deeply grateful,” he was conscious of an exaltation in his heart, as if something long kept suppressed was allowed to breathe.


	8. Chapter 8

Snape opened his eyes again, returning to a room occupied by empty beds covered by white linen sheets. Seated next to him was the headmaster, unwavering in his resolve, his face inscrutable as he unravelled yet another memory.

...

“It seems to scratch at those visions which beautiful words conjure before my eyes, the pain within my stomach, yet I am not dejected, because perhaps in this way our love shall remain elevated from the baseness of desires of the flesh,” spoke Severus.

“You preach to me that which you half believe, yet it is romantic in its purity -- we shall pine for one another in monkish abstinence, like Abelard and Heloise, whose heartsick screams echo within their cells”.

“Only not as they, for the love of one was mere lust, while the other’s heart continued to ache, more than ever once the ties of carnal pleasures were uprooted from their bond”

“What think you of Emperor Hadrian and of the fair Antinous?”

“That the allurements of youth faded and were forgotten, revived only by the guilt and idolatry which was roused by Antinous’s premature death”

“And of Tristram and Isode?”

“Their love was a bond formed by the effects of a magic potion, thereby lacking in sincerity and further tarnished by adultery”

“Then it is much like the bonds which I have known. Few are aware of the means by which Draco had been conceived – Narcissa and I had made use of such a potion as those lovers of legend had acquired, since then our marriage had little in it of the ideals of romance.”

“Is it truly so, or do you only wish to appease my scruples with fanciful lies?”

“All worldly and personal attachments have been severed, save for those of duty and perhaps, of friendship,” Lucius conceded. “The more freedom she has of me, the more she is able to forgive me my faults.”

“Why faults should those be?”

“That I had dared to place at risk our unborn child, in weakness yielding to the Dark Lord when he had called upon me as his servant,” answered Lucius, “fearing the consequences of refusal lest he should again rise to power.”

“I see,” Severus bowed his head, weighing the others words, “I can forgive you such faults, and those which you have left unspoken.”

“Upon which precepts will_ our_ love be modeled?” he resumed, leading the other away from the more uncomfortable topic.

“I care not for such lovers as Romeo and Juliet, whose affections were built upon a meager foundation, a passing glimpse of one another’s true selves. I suspect it was only a pleasing exterior which called forth ideals which had yet to be marred by sincere knowledge of one another’s character.”

“And do you feel that our experience of each other’s sins and virtues has been sufficient to warrant the name of love?”

Severus paused, considering the question carefully.

“I am uncertain,” he confessed at last, “I sense that there is still much of ourselves which we keep locked away, nor is it my intention to penetrate your secrets by force.”

“You are an indulgent master,” he smiled. “We had been like Elizabeth and the Earl of Leicester, who, unable to relinquish their power and their allegiances, sacrificed their private happiness”

“Did they?”

...

“You are not the only one Severus, who has fallen under the influence of a powerful wizard, not through his magic but through your emotions,” the professor heard a familiar voice speak over him as he looked up at the blurred whiteness of the ceiling, his body weak and unable to move. “I know that you will grieve for him now but you may still be saved from a worse fate”


	9. Chapter 9

Severus sobbed uncontrollably, grasping at the fragments of broken glass as Dumbledore tried to pull him away, striking the shards from his bloodied fingers with a wave of light from his wand. Nevertheless, one small shard had fallen into his sleeve, and Severus could hear the voice of Lucius, from somewhere within him, whispering to him.

The voice called upon him to take the fragment and pierce it through his chest, where his heart was, so that their souls might intertwine, sharing one body, while in any ordinary mirror Lucius’s image would dwell in the reflection.

Severus waited until Dumbledore took him away to attend to his wounds, remaining silent and oblivious to all of the warnings, reproaches and consolations which the venerable wizard offered to him, his mind fixated upon that which the whispers had instructed. Many hours passed before Severus was alone to carry out the painful act, his will nearly failing him as the point of the fragment of glass dug into his flesh, deeper and deeper, until it was buried in his heart. At the same time he murmured a healing spell, containing the blood-flow as best as he could muster under the strain upon him. When at last the act was concluded, he sealed the gash through his chest and struggled to regain his breath. It was a while before he could feel anything but searing pain attacking all of his nerves, subsiding gradually, until he focused on the soothing memory of Lucius, he who cared for him most out of all beings.

Impatient to be reassured of the success of the attempt, he searched for a mirror, thinking only of those that were found in the lavatories. There he went, waiting until he was certain that he would find himself alone there. When finally he was able to gaze into one of the glasses, he breathed a sigh of relief, unable to contain a smile as he saw the familiar countenance of Lucius. The other wizard praised him for carrying out his instructions and thanked him for his willingness to perform such sacrifices on his behalf.

“I could not have done otherwise,” Severus touched his hand to the glass, stroking its surface pitifully.

“You must find strength in yourself, our troubles are not yet finished,” Lucius reminded him, not in the frame of mind to exchange affections, greatly troubled by Dumbledore’s interference.

“What must I do?” Severus asked.

“We must consider carefully – but act soon, as time is of the essence,” Lucius felt the pressure of the other’s dependence, he was not confident in his abilities to outmaneuver the old wizard, although he would be loathe to admit as much to his beloved. “You are as able as I to weigh these matters – I do not know what Dumbledore shall do if he discovers that you are still under my influence, as he expresses it. My initial instinct is that you try and leave Hogwarts immediately and find a place of hiding, but I fear this would provoke him to seek you out, and we would find no rest from our pursuers.”

“It may well be so,” Severus considered, “and if I remain here I doubt that we could long keep hidden our communications, nor would I wish to abstain from seeing you, hearing you –“

“What if there was no other way?” thought Lucius

“Is there nothing else that can be tried?” Severus urged him, sensing that there was something he was keeping back.

“There is, only you are not fit for it yet. You must attend to yourself and try and regain your strength. I fear that your health has suffered greatly since my arrival,” said Lucius.

“Tell me what is required,” Severus insisted, “I shall heed to your words, only I would like to know so that I might prepare myself.”


	10. Chapter 10

During the days that followed, the potions master was placed under the care and surveillance of madame Pomfrey as he was left to convalesce in a private room of the infirmary. Feeling weary of body and restless of mind, the hours dragged on painfully.

His morose temperament and immovable silence visibly perturbed the old schoolmaster, who was loathe to admit that he had made a mistake in placing his trust in the other. All the same, he sought to keep the matter from reaching the ears of the students, although some suspected there was something amiss about the professor’s sudden and mysterious illness. Many, except for the most studious, were rather hopeful that they might thereby be exempt from the potions class exam which loomed on the horizon of the academic year.

  
Dumbledore would often pay a visit in the evenings for a short while, surveying Severus for any changes in his condition. By significant restraint, the patient showed none of the signs of being in communication with an unnatural entity, which was the chief reason for his prolonged confinement. Always he felt the schoolmaster’s eye upon him, whether he was present or not, as of some omnificent deity, he therefore did all that he could to abstain from dwelling too long upon the reflection in the mirrors found in the lavatory of the infirmary.

As his strength began to return to him, Severus would occupy his hours in reading – choosing his subjects with systematic randomness, as much as is possible given the lean of his tastes, so as not to give an indication of his future hopes and plans. Many a time he was tempted to such dangerous readings, only restrained by the risks of giving away the precarious venture upon which his future depended.

  
All the while, he was able to reach out to the spirit within the chamber of his mind, where the it's voice reached him in apparent secrecy, where it expounded its thoughts to him and listened to his own. 

  
Chiefly, they discussed the particulars of their escape, circling around the legend of the Weaving Swallows – these strange birds, known to dwell in the cavities of a remote cavern and hunt after silkworms – no ordinary birds, nor worms, were these – for their prey was said to be snatched from the groves of a parallel realm. 

  
Searching out the cocoons of these insects, the swallows would use their diaphanous silver thread to weave and mold their nests. Whether by the unique properties of the birds’ saliva or by the silk-like threads of the worms themselves, the precious material told of in such legends was believed to impart something of its virtues to a tapestry of runes – a spell forming an enchanted object by which one may pass from world to world – allowing the soul to travel unimpeded.

  
It was upon this myth and an old issue of the Daily Prophet that the two wizards placed their waning hopes, the article telling of the pilgrimage of an obscure herbologist who happened to find a species of birds that seemed to possess the ability to Apparate – fitting well with the description in the legend.

Unfortunately, neither of them could supply further information telling of deeper inquiries being made into the life and characteristics of these miraculous creatures, and a part of them could not help but feel forlorn and credulous to place such weight upon less than credible sources. Not even the condemned wizard had anticipated that he would be forced to follow such a tenuous trail – in part blinded by desperation to present this meager research to Severus with more optimism than he felt. Severus, by similar motives, was likewise inclined to act as if he too believed that there was some foundation of truth in the legend.

Both were driven by a sense of foreboding to find some means and motive to depart from the castle, given the unnerving constraint and scrutiny placed upon them day after day.  
Although Dumbledore was satisfied with neither the efforts to cure nor to investigate Severus-- these two purposes unfortunately keeping the professor from his usual duties for longer than he had originally anticipated -- he felt that it would do little good to let things drag on further and allowed him to resume his classes.

In a final effort, Dumbledore also ventured an appeal to the other’s sense of honor, reminding him of his moral duties to report any knowledge of the other being’s prolonged existence, not only to the Ministry but to the students, and lastly, to himself, if he were still considered a sincere friend.

  
Severus wondered if the man could see in his eyes a momentary lapse of fear, induced by the suspicion that the wizard feigned to guess at what he already knew with certainty – that the destruction of the mirror did not suffice to banish the disembodied soul of Lucius Malfoy from existence, that it still clung on to life through the fragment which was buried and transmuted through him. These suspicions were further roused by the startling suggestion that he should take some time off, perhaps even a holiday abroad to glean the benefits of a change of air. 

  
As Dumbledore proposed this, his tone light-hearted and sympathetic, Severus weighed whether it would be in his interest to make use of the opportunity, even if it were a trap, to attempt to escape from the confines laid upon him as a professor of the school, and one who was likely already marked out as a traitor of the Ministry. 

  
Another thought occurred to him, one dared not dwell upon, lest it should sabotage him by its unwarranted optimism – it came to him that perhaps the headmaster had had a change of heart regarding his situation. The other had seen much that embarrassed Severus as he reached into his memories, an importunity he would never have allowed were it not for his weakened state, yet while doing so he had surely seen signs of a sincere devotion and little of the malevolent intentions that he likely associated with the condemned wizard. Only he could never be truly certain, not without revealing to Dumbledore that the other still lived, a risk which he was not confident enough to make without consulting his friend. 

  
That night, returning to the potions master’s familiar chamber, the two spirits were awake in silent debate over their course of action, each having a contrary view as to what should best preserve them. After much deliberation, and against the recommendations of Lucius, Severus resolved to lay open the truth before the headmaster upon the basis of his faith in the man’s wisdom and sympathy. 

  
…

  
It was a quiet evening, given that most students were absent for the winter holidays, when the potions master ventured to visit his old friend, a part of him ruing the rift that had taken place between them and hoping that it was not too late to make amends. 

  
The snow fell slowly from the sky, coating the grounds with its shimmering crystals, clinging to the branches of trees and the gables of the castle roof. 

  
Severus was comforted to see the happiness in the other’s eyes as he was welcomed inside, with a familiar manner, almost as if he had been expected. Accepting the cup of creamy blackcurrant hot chocolate offered to him, he seated himself in a large armchair and reached about for the words by which to begin his account, eventually bringing himself to recall the night when the unfamiliar owl knocked upon his window.  
Dumbledore listened with a contemplative expression as he thought over the strange revelations, not altogether unknown to him, only at last he was able to confidently piece together the fragments he had gleaned over his attempted intrusions into the other’s mind. He called upon the wizard to follow him out of the room to another chamber, occupied by diverse artefacts, many coated with a considerable layer of dust. Among them was a large mirror, before which the professor was asked to stand. In the glass appeared Lucius Malfoy, a look of thinly veiled aversion in his eyes as he forced a silent smile by way of greeting – waiting for Dumbledore to be the first to speak, so as better to judge which course to take with him.

The elder wizard surveyed the apparition with curiosity, and then, turned to Severus as if he were about to ask a question, but from which he ultimately refrained. This meeting of opposing sides concluded in mutual dislike and forbearance, brought on only by a shared allegiance to Severus.


	11. Chapter 11

Lucius’s reflection in the mirror cast an imperious wrathful gaze, fixated on the elder wizard, and then, softening as it fell upon the defeated form of Severus, who sat upon the chair as still as if he were devoid of life. 

“It seems that Severus shall not easily be parted from you, nor you from him,” Dumbledore spoke after a time, “I can only conjecture at what motives drive each of you to your own peril – clearly, Lucius, you are willing to place your friend in harm’s way for the sake of self-preservation”

“Clearly,” Lucius’s lip curled.

“Is it desperation then or merely an absence of conscience that allows you to confess it without compunction?” Dumbledore stepped closer to the mirror, placing his hand upon Severus’s shoulder, who sat motionless, save for a shudder which passed through him at the touch of the man’s reproving grip.

The room and everything around him felt as if it were a half-dream. Snape’s mouth formed a hard line as he waited for it all to unravel, to be released from his spell-bound state.

“Desperation,” Lucius replied, his sardonic tone jarring with the truth of his words, “desperation and obsession,” his eyes fell upon the figure of Severus, who appeared to him considerably thinner and more aged than he did the last time they had met before the mirror. For a moment, a pang of inconvenient emotion penetrated through the veneer of his disdain, not going unnoticed by the elder wizard.

“The man whom you claim to love grows weaker all the while he clings to you, and yet you will not release him from his bonds,” Dumbledore continued.

“That is enough,” Severus spoke unexpectedly, such that both men turned to him. “What is it that you would have us do?”

“I would have you see this,” the headmaster reached into a pocket of his robes and produced two carefully folded pieces of parchment, one sheet of newspaper, the other, an opened letter. He handed them to Severus, who read quickly, his surprise written across his face. The news stated that Lucius had been released from Azkaban and placed in a hospice for witches and wizards beyond the aid of medicine or healing charms -- it being wisely judged that he was in no state of mind to experience the virtues of his prior place of imprisonment, while unnecessarily preoccupying the attentions of the Dementors. His keepers, although most patient and determined in carrying out their duties, were unaccustomed to receive such guests as he, unable to yield even the remnants of a soul in payment for their ministrations.

As for the letter, it was addressed to Severus in the hand of Narcissa, informing him of the proceedings and delegating to him the power of removing her husband from the ward, if he so wished.

“How long have you known?” the potions master looked up at Dumbledore as he set down the papers upon his lap.

“They had only arrived today by the morning owl post.”

“Show me the letter,” Lucius commanded, recognizing his wife’s handwriting even from afar.

“You have been released from Azkaban – your body that is,” Snape replied, holding up the two papers to the glass with faintly shaking hands and watching the other’s eyes scan over the words with the same frantic eagerness’ which he himself had felt.

“It cannot be,” he could not resist the pleasure which welled inside his heart, “it is incredible, a miracle,” his hand covered his mouth as he reread the pages.

“What do you plan on doing, now that you are free?” Dumbledore ventured to ask. “It would not be wise to remain under the jurisdiction of the Ministry, lest word should reach them of your most miraculous recovery. It would be a rather sorry life, I would imagine, to be forever in hiding – not unlike the life of a criminal. Are you certain that is the route which you wish to follow, professor?”

“Headmaster, is it your intention to help or hinder us, if you were to speak plainly,” some of Severus’s strength seemed to return to him upon the reception of the news, which gave him renewed hope for the future.

“My aim is, and has always been, to help you,” he smiled a sad smile, as if he were indulging a wayward child towards something regrettable yet unavoidable, lacking the cruelty to deny him what he so deeply longed for – for as long as there was some chance that it may be his, and not a mirage that he chased through deserts and darkness, ”whether this man is worth your loyalty, and the home which you shall be sacrificing here at Hogwarts, only time will tell Severus, but regardless of my feelings about it, I will endeavour to help you as a friend, if you believe that you shall find happiness in this way, then you are at liberty to pursue it. Only know that which awaits you -- a secluded existence, away from all that you have known, drawing you deeper and deeper into a dependence upon one who places his own life and ambitions over your own.”

“It is unnecessary for you to extol my faults to Severus, real or assumed -- he has known me long enough to judge for himself,” Lucius interrupted, “even so, we are grateful to you, if your reluctant well-wishing proves sincere. Now what manner of help is it that you propose to grant us?”

“In a form that I hope you shall have no trouble recognizing,” before further questions were asked, Dumbledore approached what had seemed to be a wooden chest draped with a moth-eaten shawl. Drawing the fabric aside, he opened the lid and showed the pale, emaciated and unshaven figure of Lucius Malfoy, dressed in a rough cotton robe with a number stitched onto its hem.

“How did you –“ Severus began, his mouth gaping at the sight of the corpse-like form.

“Polyjuice potion,” answered the wizard, a twinkle in his eyes.

The professor approached the coffin-like box and looked closely at the body, so unlike the immaculate aristocratic figure in the mirror, who strained to see beyond the reach of its line of vision -- confined therein rather than to Severus’s eyes while the glass was nearby.

Leaning over the body, the potions master could feel a faint breathing, although the skin was very cold, of an almost bluish hue as he took one of its hands.

“Is this the happy reunion you had been dreaming of, or would the fleeting emotion bloom the longer if it were allowed to repose in dreams alone?” Dumbledore stood beside him.

“Dreams would have no attraction if they had no basis in reality” Snape answered him, not taking his eyes off the motionless form.

“And do you think such dreams as yours are probable, in reality?”

Meanwhile Lucius listened to their exchange, wondering how it was that the old man chose to meddle in their relations, neither thwarting them nor graciously keeping his silence once he resolved not to stand in their way. At the same time, he could not help but feel sincerely indebted to him for having brought the body to Severus, who had only to transfer his soul to it in order to set matters right.

“I do -- I shall give Severus what he deserves,” Lucius spoke, “there are certain vows which are not in my power to break, nor would I desire it to be otherwise.”

“I hope that it shall be so, and will leave you both to make your own fate,” Dumbledore did not feel inclined to say more before the other, of whom he knew but little to encourage trust, at the same time willing to believe that Snape would not place his heart upon the fire carelessly – that there was a compelling reason guiding him to form such a bond as that which they sought to preserve “Good luck Severus, and goodbye,” he breathed deeply.

“Wait,” Snape felt a pain in his stomach as he contemplated the headmaster’s departure, in that moment feeling a sense of mourning for the life which he had known for as long as his memory reached back with any semblance of clarity. Over the long years, it were as though he had become a part of the ancient stones upon which the castle stood, destined to remain there until his last days, only such a course was not to be his – they would have to leave, that he knew. Only everything had happened so quickly, not giving him enough time to come to terms with the impending changes which blew him like the winds of a great storm.

“Yes Severus?” Dumbledore paused, regarding him with compassion and a sense of powerlessness. He knew that there may be little that he could do further to protect the man from harm, whether from external forces or from those that held him from within.

“Thank you,” the words meant more than simply retrieving the body, recalling all of the years of friendship that they had shared, something that would never be forgotten.

“If ever you have need of me, or of Hogwarts, remember, you shall always have a home here, and a family. And as for you, Lucius, I am sorry that you are unable to say your goodbyes. I can see that the losses which Draco has sustained have affected him deeply. The only words of comfort that I can offer are these -- I will do what I can to ensure that he is looked after.”

“Thank you,” Lucius said faintly, his voice wavering as he acknowledged the truth of the other’s words. Indeed much time had passed since he had last so much as glimpsed Draco, receiving his news of him second hand from Severus, while he acted as potions master. Many times he had been on the edge of asking Severus to bring his son to him, but they could not afford to give sign to the boy that his father was not as he seemed, for the risks were too great if the secret of his being was to be laid open.

It was painful to suppress the longing to console the youth, that the lifeless being which he supposed was his father in Azkaban suffered nothing, while that which dwelled so close to him felt the remorse and sorrow of parting from him, and would love him always.

He trusted that Dumbledore would honor his word, and that Narcissa, too, would be there to watch over him. Lucius wondered if he would be able to contrive some means by which he would receive news of his son while in exile with Severus, yet these practical considerations were too painful to dwell upon, being most unsatisfying at best.

It seemed to him unfortunate that in the nature of man there was something which always grasped at the next thing that was lacking for his complete happiness, leaving little time to relish the alleviation of one sorrow, wandering so quickly to the next.

It occurred to Lucius then, how strangely satisfying – soothing even – it was to be placed under the Imperious curse, when all of one’s worries and cares would slip away, guilt and foreboding becoming vague distant memories, while a peaceful submission slipped over oneself, all accountability and will to power receding far into hidden recesses of the mind. Almost reluctantly, Lucius pulled himself away from such thoughts, back into the present, where he saw Severus embracing Dumbledore before their parting. He said nothing, feeling a certain deepening respect for the old wizard, whose kindness reached out even towards those who had marked themselves as his enemies. He considered whether he should make this known, yet decided that he was perhaps but a secondary figure, seen chiefly in the light and darkness of Severus, and that idle words would be an ineffectual means by which to convey his gratefulness.

When the wizard had gone, Severus retraced his steps towards the mirror, taking his seat before it, only with a sorrowful determined countenance – as of one gathering strength before difficult times -- no longer the lost, hopeless man he had been as he waited for Dumbledore to pronounce him a traitor and a fool. As their eyes met, each hoped that the life which they would share was one worthy of the sacrifices that each had made. Faith dwelled within their hearts that with time the ghosts of the past and the shadows which lingered over the future may ebb in their hold upon them, yet without forgetting those memories to which was owed their love.

Closing his eyes and focusing his mind, Severus performed the spell, binding the soul back to its body. 


	12. Chapter 12

It was with an uneasy dazed look that Lucius gazed back at Snape once the soul-transferring spell was completed. Offering his hand, the professor helped him out of the chest, supporting him by his arm as they made their way through one of the secret passageways leading out of the chamber, all the while looking about for signs of being followed, for a sound of some other presence besides their own had reached Snape’s ears.

“Rats, surely,” said Lucius, trying to discern something through the depths of the surrounding darkness. Severus did not answer, signaling for him to remain silent.

In the pitch black of one of the corridors, they suddenly heard footsteps, pausing to look if there was an intersecting path behind or in front of them by which they might elude a confrontation. Finding that there was little that they could do by way of escape, for the other – or others, judging by the approaching sound – had already heard their presence. Severus raised his wand, deciding upon a spell to paralyze whoever came his way.

“Blimey!” came a shout in the familiar voice of Ron Weasley. Upon impulse, he cast a bolt of fire which he saw collide with an empty wall, subsiding into ashes.

“Harry – are you alright?” Hermione drew near him as she deflected the second onslaught of the professor’s spell – followed by motionless silence. “Should we turn back?” she asked Ron anxiously, dragging the petrified form of Harry Potter, still draped in the invisibility cloak.

“The map says they’re here, just a few feet further,” Ron whispered, “why aren’t they doing anything? Do you think I got them?”

Severus felt trapped in the passageway, unprepared for such a meeting as was arranged for him. He was loathe to have the three dunderheads see him and Lucius, as they still entertained some doubt as to the truth of the map. It seemed that he had little choice but to attack them with distance spells until they were able to pass.

“Give me your wand,” Lucius whispered, a request with which Severus was reluctant to comply, lest he should cause undue harm to the students under Dumbledore’s special guardianship, and his own, by extension of his bond to Potter’s mother.

“What will you do with it?” he hissed.

Lucius did not wish to waste time upon prolonged discussions, hearing a movement in front of them.

Suddenly, the image of a giant basilisk slithered past them, such that Lucius had to grab hold of Severus to keep him from making a sound. In a matter of moments, Weasley’s scream resounded through the echoing corridor, although credit was to be given to them for not leaving behind the body of their friend even in such difficulties. The sound of footsteps grew more distant and at last Lucius thought it safe to dissolve the illusion, returning the wand to Severus without another word.

“We must hurry, they might return,” the professor took hold of his arm again and steered him onward, feeling rather pleased with his friend’s ingenuity. Lucius nodded and did his best to keep pace with him upon his blistered feet.

They continued to stagger down the damp passageway until the professor caught sight of something shimmering upon the ground, something other than puddles of water. He removed his arm from Lucius in order to pick up the enchanted object – it was the invisibility cloak.

A smile formed upon his pale face as the smooth material passed through his fingers. Draping it over Lucius’s shoulders, they carried on, not feeling safe until they reached the professor’s room.

It seemed as if an hour had passed since they entered the passageway of secret corridors, much exhausted by the strain upon their bodies and their nerves by the proceedings of the day. It was still hard for Severus to believe that he had succeeded in reuniting the body and soul of Lucius, and that his friend was sitting in front of him in flesh and blood, only he had yet to resemble his old self. The signs of ill treatment and an unnatural life showed plainly upon the figure which slouched in a well-worn armchair while Severus drew a bath for him, feebly drinking a glass of wine.

He was still deliberating whether it was wise to have taken the cloak from Potter, or if it would do more harm than good if the boy was not to be easily parted from it. After some lucid moments, his mind would wander again to memories that he could not account for, those which had been seen through the vacant eyes of the body, yet unperceived by the soul. None of them were of a particularly pleasant nature and he waited anxiously for Severus to return to distract him from the ghosts of many a horrid recollection.

The wizard had gone to fetch food from the kitchen of house elves, saying that it was for a student who had arrived late from detention. The creatures obeyed his request without an inkling of protest, although some could not help but feel surprised by the professor’s uncharacteristic benevolence towards a reprobate. Swathed in the invisibility cloak and carrying a platter of cod fish and mashed potatoes, generously slathered in garlic butter, Severus returned to his room, relieved to arrive without incident. Lucius thanked him for his thoughtfulness, and after dividing the food between them, they ate without further ceremony, their minds tracing plans for the future.

After the meal, Severus helped the other undress and led him to the large wooden bath, one of the few luxuries with which the professor concluded many a long day.

As he removed the clothing from Lucius’s thin frame, he found him to be as one who had languished in near-starvation, his ribs, hip bones and sunken cheeks giving him an unpleasantly skeletal appearance. He supposed that a body without its soul had little to encourage it to cling to life; he could only believe that with time the other would recover his health, not wishing to acknowledge the possibility that Lucius would not survive the effects of Azkaban and the neglect of the Ministry run hospice.

The professor did what he could to heal the visible wounds and bruises upon the pale skin and wash away the dirt and blood marring the loveliness of his hair, once such a striking aspect of the man’s appearance. When he looked at him, brushing the long soft strands, he could sometimes imagine a Veela he had once seen at the Quidditch World Cup during his youth, and he wondered at his own mind for recalling such a distant and inconsequential memory. It was only when he looked at the back of him that he could forget for a moment the wretchedness that was engraved upon the wizard’s face, his eyes sunken and his fingernails missing or blackened, as if someone had tried to crush the bones of his hand.

He recalled Dumbledore’s words, warning him that reality often had little of the charms of a beautiful fantasy.

Still his resolve remained strong to help is friend and beloved during his time of need.

Severus and Lucius sat by the fire discussing their schemes for the following morning. It was of the utmost importance that they should not be recognized, so as not to arouse suspicion that Lucius’s soul had somehow been restored, enabling him to escape Azkaban without serving his full sentence. If the deception was discovered, the Ministry would make sure that he would pay for it. These and similar urgings were pressed upon Severus as the man gave an account of Azkaban from the perspective of the soulless eyes which had seen all that he had yet to feel for himself, imaging that these visions would soon come to him in realistic vividness during the night.

The potions master insisted that they should not defer sleep on that account, and that rest was imperative if he wished to recover his strength for the journey to come. They shared the all too small bed, Severus holding the other close under the blankets as he sought to escape his nightmares, at last settling into what appeared to be a peaceful sleep. Severus’s warmth and comforting presence did much to sooth him and he was grateful that his life should be in the keeping of one so full of the virtues of a sincere love. 


	13. Chapter 13

In the morning, discussions were resumed regarding how best to disguise themselves during their journey, and if necessary, after they were settled. A magical artefact was resorted to instead of Polyjuice Potion because the latter would pose many difficulties – not only was it difficult to prepare in regular quantities, there was also the risk that the witch or wizard being impersonated would be recognized, leading to undesirable questions or encounters, which, if not carefully managed, would reveal an imposter.

Instead, Lucius proposed another means, for which a visit to Gringott’s would be required.

The second errand which they naturally turned to was the necessity of withdrawing funds to sustain them while they were settled in the countryside, hidden in the obscurity of a Muggle village near the Isle of Skye, scouted out by Lucius while he was at his liberty for the magnificence of its landscapes and relative distance from known witches and wizards – according to records which he had used his influence to access, and which were still negligently open to his scrutiny.

The management of the Malfoy fortune had for the past three generations been under the accountability of a goblin by the name of Boghorn, a lean large-nosed creature dressed in somber suits tailored to match his diminutive stature and bound to a golden pocket watch. Although Severus had some reservations about engaging the goblin’s services, Lucius assured him of his unimpeachable character as a keeper of secrets. During the trials which took place after the first wizarding war, the banker had successfully resisted all attempts at interrogation, going so far as to obliterate any traces of documentation containing incriminating transactions in order to protect his client, giving his wholehearted support to the defense that Lucius had been under the Imperious Curse.

Such loyalty was well remunerated by the Malfoys, and would continue to be relied upon in future times of peril and prosperity alike.

Without much in the way of hindrance, Lucius was able to write to Mr.Boghorn for a private appointment in order to be taken to visit his vault. At the appointed time, long after regular working hours, he and Severus made their descent through dark subterranean passageways and labyrinthine cavernous corridors until at last they reached a vault guarded by a Hebridean Black Dragon, its spiked tail lashing threateningly as it raised itself onto its haunches. As its serpentine eyes caught sight of Boghorn, its scales bristled in anticipation.

The goblin took a small wooden pipe from the pocket of his vest and began to play to the tune of a popular folksong – telling of the exploits of a fictional dragon slayer of the Arthurian Court, while seven large blades hovered in the air above it as if ready to strike if the creature should so much as make a movement towards them.

Severus could detect several gashes and scars, some relatively fresh, upon the dark scaly body, and wondered at the efficacy of keeping subdued dragons as guards. On this topic he said nothing, following the goblin and Mr.Malfoy into the vault, keeping well away from to the perimeter drawn by the length of the dragon’s heavy chain.

Ironwork serpents recoiled from the Malfoy family crest, into which a key was placed, turned and stealthily pocketed by Boghorn.

With a dignified bow, the goblin gestured for his master to proceed.

The expansive room, a great hollow carved out of thick walls of marble, was filled with row upon row of labelled mahogany cabinets, reminiscent of those of an apothecary’s chest, only multiplied a thousand fold. Each of these contained not only currency but also dark artefacts, part of the wizard’s private collection, rumored, with both renown and notoriety, to be the most extensive amongst any individual among the wizarding community.

As Lucius strode between the towering cabinets, he felt no small amount of regret at the notion that it would be long before he would be able to return there, and furthermore, that it would be unwise to withdraw from safekeeping all that he would have liked to have about him during his exile. There were many object which he had not thought of for years, yet was remorseful to abandon, as his eyes passed over the minutely written labels, recorded in a special ink legible only to his own eyes – appearing as gibberish to all others.

They eventually left with a briefcase, expanded by an Undetectable Extension Charm, and filled to capacity with gold, as well as a few boxed items which Lucius did not feel compelled to describe to Severus for the time being.

There next matter of business was a visit to Ollivander’s, rendered necessary in order to replace Lucius’s wand, which had been destroyed by the Ministry upon his imprisonment. Before they left the bank, the wizard took from the briefcase a particular box, upon which Severus read the label ‘Hokitybakantu Toph’, which did little to elucidate beyond his original suspicions regarding the magic behind the cracked wooden mask that it held within.

Lucius held it up to the lantern, as if beholding a photograph of an old friend. The mask, once smeared on the inside with the blood of the wearer, would transfigure his face into that of a wizen old man, with more wrinkles than hairs upon his bald scalp and bare chin. The countenance of such a personage was expertly depicted by the Italian Renaissance artist, an exemplar of grotesque realism, which Severus did not relish to behold instead of that of his beloved.

This was likely the most risky of their errands, if Ollivander should see through the disguise. As Lucius tried one wand after another, the man’s eyes seemed to give him a knowing look, which was difficult to interpret, as he darted back and forth among the shelves. One wand after another was put to trial, most being less than satisfactory replacements for the one the dark wizard had lost. When at last a suitable substitute was found, its characteristics closely resembling its predecessor, Lucius was glad to leave the dusty old shop and seek out Severus at Flourish and Blotts. Both of them, disguised as hoary old men, pottered about the shelves as they filled the endless briefcase with a seemingly endless supply that would last many a lifetime or two, or three.

Ink, quills, and parchment as well as many a noxious ingredient, bottled or wrapped in neat parcels, was thrown into the briefcase. They did not know if this was the proper way to prepare for a life of retirement but went by the axiom that it was better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it. Every trifling object seemed to have the aspect of a souvenir, as if many such articles which they had depended upon over the decades was suddenly to become a great rarity, in short supply, or not to be had for any price in a Muggle shop. It was at times difficult to moderate their acquisitions at any one shop, and each took turns reminding the other that five pairs of boots would do instead of seven, if two was an impossible number. Surely they had boots, shirts, and gloves – such things were not unheard of among Muggles.

After sending Snape to make the remainder of these discretionary purchases from the wizarding shops, there was the need to convert gold into Muggle currency. This was not the trifling matter that Lucius had assumed it would be. Upon principle, the Malfoy family has as little to do as possible with Muggle systems of bureaucracy, having enough to deal with from the Ministry, and so, when asked to present the necessary documents Lucius was baffled to be called upon to produce a driver’s licences, passport, or other government issued document with such and such information – coercion and threats failing, Lucius was left with no choice but to use the Imperius spell upon the clerk, who proceeded to open a savings and chequing account without further ado. These transactions concluded, the clerk went on to ask if he had a banking app installed on his phone, or if he was interested in learning more about their new high interest credit card for frequent travellers. To these vexing questions, Lucius thought it wise to answer in the negative, glad to leave the bank with the marvelous little piece of plastic which he supposed would soon contain a third of his fortune.

Then there still remained additional complication related to converting gold to Muggle currency, for Boghorn warned him that such dealings must be handled with utmost care, if his ambition was not to attract unnecessary attention. Through agents scattered across various geographies, Boghorn was able to dispose of the gold in batches, sending the funds to the account Lucius Malfoy had opened, and opening several more on his behalf with go-betweens in Switzerland, in case any difficulties should arise in the future -- something about suspected money laundering and a need to account for how he had acquired his vast fortune.

It was a long and trying day before they finally reached their train.

For most of the journey, Severus gazed outside the window, from time to time looking at his friend who seemed to be occupied in a like manner or else dozing off to sleep. Severus noticed a fragment of what he thought was a photograph underneath the seat. As he reached down to pick it, he saw that it was not a photograph exactly, but a collectible card – one depicting the familiar figure of Albus Dumbledore, smiling back at him quizzically.

This image had both a comforting and painful effect upon him, as he thought with regret that he had not said all that he would have wished to when he had made his goodbye, nor had he taken the opportunity to see him before leaving the castle for good. Only if he had, he did not know if his words of what was likely cloying sentimentality would have mattered, telling no more than what the wizard likely already knew, better than he could ever express.

Lucius’s voice brought him back to the train, reminding him that they had little to eat that day and that it was best to order something soon. Severus nodded distractedly, uncertain if he was hungry or not, feeling so tired from being on his feet all day. He still had to get used to the cadaverous old man which sat in front of him, although he suspected the distinctive features of the mask would visit him even in his sleep. It was not entirely the romantic getaway that a secret part of himself had envisions in idle moments, but he was nevertheless looking forward to what the future had in store for him, as if he was shaking off the cobwebs from the circular route his life had been following for the past decade or so. Lucius seemed to be feeling a great deal better since the healing charms, thought the professor, after their dinner he reminded himself that it would be good to use them upon the other again to make certain.

Meanwhile, the other wizard sat before him carving a plum duck which appeared before them in a cloud of blue-violet smoke, his voracious hunger impeded only by the ingrained decorum of his manners. The wizard felt as if he had had few opportunities to eat properly for days, and suspected that perhaps that was much the case, given how little inclined the attendants of the hospice would be in look after one reputed to be a Death Eater. Indeed, he attributed to them a certain malevolent pleasure in seeing a powerful and wicked man brought low. Severus, as he looked up at the other, was surprised to see a scowl upon his face where he had hope see something of affection, as their contrary trains of thought jarred with one another --- as one thought of the future, and the other, of the past.

“Is something troubling you?” Snape asked, drawing a piece of the duck onto his plate with a silver fork.

“No, only I had thought to myself how much better it would be if you should kill me rather than put me in a retirement home, when I reach a decrepit old age,” Lucius’s knife continued to macerate creature which passed for a duck, looking less appetizing on the inside than it had on the outside. “A shell of a fowl,” he sighed, setting the fork and knife down and taking a sip of the wine, which also failed to live up to his hopes.

“I shall return,” said Severus, leaving his seat and wandering down the train corridor, leaving Lucius with a puzzled expression.

What the professor returned it was with armfuls of sweets and pumpkin pasties, much to the other’s surprise. Lucius could not help but grin at the incongruity of a stern and somber man carrying the evidence of a rampant sweet tooth.

“Do you hope to battle the onslaught of time by returning to the fond memories of youth?” he made a playfully mocking smile as he accepted one of the chocolate frogs offered to him.

“I thought we might need something to dispel the ill humor which has fallen over both of us, there is something to be said for such trifles as these – supposedly the comforting balm for such shadows as Dementors,” Severus sought to explain, at the same time just barely catching the frog which had jumped from Lucius’s hand.

“Yes – powerful dark magic, this is,” Lucius put a Pepper Imp into his mouth and breathed a cloud of fire, “I had almost forgotten this side of you Severus.”


	14. Chapter 14

They reached a dilapidated thatch-roofed house surrounded on all sides by a seemingly endless moor, the wind billowing their robes about them as they made their way to it, their shoes soggy to the brim. A thick layer of snow served to cover the deep puddles which once or twice each of them had the misfortune of finding, falling knee deep into the freezing muddy waters through a thin layer of ice.

Even with all of Snape’s effort to keep the pipes warm, they found themselves without water on the following morning, obliging them to fill the tea pot from the neighbouring ravine, about a three mile walk. This errand was somewhat expedited through the use of magic, but not sufficiently so as to render the first week of their cottage retreat a wholesome one. They ate what food they had brought with them as well as that which they were able to catch – which often consisted of more bones than flesh. Living off the land was something which neither had much experience with, nor did they make significant progress in acquiring such arts and sciences as would serve them in their remote hermitage.

As the winter drew on, the question of relocating was again revisited, this time with a more sympathetic ear from Severus as the other wizard leafed through the pages of a recent copy of Country Life picked up during their first time wandering into town. As circumstance would have it, the lone village shop declined to accept the plastic card which Lucius presented. To his chagrin, neither would the smiling albeit unyielding crone barter groceries for what the wizard happened to have on hand, believing the shining gold coins to be a sure counterfeit or perhaps a joke. Before the situation grew serious, Severus escorted his friend outside and resorted to trying to sell the gold coins at a second hand shop. The red-haired young man, the son of the proprietor, was more than willing to make a bargain – and compelled by hunger, the two wizards agreed to the offer without much haggling. 

As they supped upon bread, sardines and a vegetable stew, each man contemplated his situation in a less than favorable light, wondering how soon they could get out of the forsaken place. Already Lucius had made a few enquires and showed Severus a place which seemed promising, not too far from their present abode, yet closer to a somewhat larger Muggle town, if they were willing to take the risk. Yet is main attractions were the estate which surrounded it, consisting of a well-tended woodland and garden, as well as a lake and the rights to a few tenant farms which would supply them with some ready income and fresh produce during the warmer seasons. It seemed almost too good to be true, and so it was, when the man who posted the advert declined to accept any offers for the time being, his reasons being vague and elusive. Whatever his motives, he was either unwilling or unable to sell.

During their forest walks, they had caught sight of a bard owl, which Severus had managed to capture and enchant in order to act as postman between their cottage and Malfoy manor. Lucius would contrive to send Draco a parcel of sweets as well as instructions for Narcissa to procure the occasional gift whenever she wrote to him of the boy’s achievements. Only through their exchanges was he able to get news of the wizarding world. At times a copy of the Daily Prophet would be enclosed, although Narcissa advised that it was better if he resigned himself to his lot rather than strive to look back at the world which he had lost.

During dull cold evenings, a certain gloom would increasingly fall upon him, such that even Severus could not console him. The other man often found Lucius to be of an irritable temper, perhaps unused to the privations of a secluded life devoid of the comforts which he was accustomed to at Malfoy manor. At times Severus almost regretted that the other’s soul had not felt the contrast between Azkaban and their homely cottage, as to make the latter all the more agreeable to him. It seemed that he placed much store upon settling into their new abode, missing the dignity afforded to an ancient estate and the life of nobility that naturally went with it. Only Severus feared that, exiled from society, he would find little solace in the bleak walls and empty rooms that awaited them. Of this he said nothing, however, sensing that it would do little good to discourage the man further.

Another reason for the man’s despondence related to his concern for Draco. Although he could not see him, the boy was often in his thoughts, perhaps more so than if he had never been obliged to leave. He did all that he could to maintain a regular correspondence, although it would often take a fortnight for the owl to reach his old home and return with a message. It seemed that after several months in hiding, Lucius had eventually given way to explaining the truth of his situation to Draco, urging him to utmost secrecy. The general belief remained that Lucius was locked away at Malfoy manor, in a state more dead than alive, and in time public interest began to wane on the topic of the family of Death Eaters.

These letters, from what Severus had seen, were more sentimental than he would have supposed of the blond-haired imp he remembered from his potions class. Among the usual profusion of schoolboy complaints and grievances, there were hints of the loneliness and anger which the youth felt at being deprived of his father’s guardianship. Lucius had not told him of Snape, and so he was left to imagine him a solitary wraith-like being living in a hut somewhere on the moors, an image which he could not dispel with the vague assurances that he offered.

Perhaps it in some ways pleased him to receive these sympathies, which were less than forthcoming from Narcissa, who held the view that Lucius could have fared worse, given the consequences that fell upon other families who had supported the Dark Lord. Yet even through the harshness of her words, a part of her hoped that he would be safe, and perhaps happy – a happiness which he had not begrudged her after the severance of their marriage.

In addition to words of comfort, Lucius tried to advise Draco in matters great and small and encourage him in his studies, hinting at future rewards. After reading these messages, the doting father would at times to reminisce about his own time at Hogwarts, retelling old stories which Snape had heard countless times before, yet still managed to derive some pleasure from them as together they looked back upon better days.

As the winter grew harsher, Severus took upon himself most of the outdoor work, gathering wood for the fire and going to fetch water and groceries, at times having to resort to illusions that multiplied the Muggle coins which they managed to earn from pawning their things. At times he considered offering his services as a pharmacist or even as a common laborer, but the antipathy and fear which they had aroused in the villagers was difficult to shake, and he gave up on such schemes after several failed applications.

Lucius remained in the cottage, feeling a sense of guilt that Severus was left to take on the role of a menial servant as they both lived in squalor, recalling with irony the insults which he had cast upon the Weasley family in days of old. He would offer to help Snape with many an errand but the other would insist that he should take care of himself, that his health had not yet recovered. Lucius took it upon himself to do the cooking and cleaning while his friend was away, guided by a book on household management written for the education of a class of wizards who had to attend to their own housework. Demanding his concentration, most of these spells helped to take his mind off of the brooding which was becoming his habit – as spinning wheels spun, pots brewed and brooms avidly pushed up large clouds of dust in the direction of the door.

Lucius still clung to his old ideals regarding the family name, even after incurring the ill will of much of the wizarding world through his unpopular sympathies and opportunistic ways. It was increasingly jarring to him that he was placed in a situation which made him so dependent upon Muggles, finding them anything but respectful and submissive – often thwarting him in the most straightforward errands and refusing completely reasonable requests, so that he hardly scrupled over the use of magic in order to get things done and exert his influence upon them.

It was little wonder that many a shopkeeper had grown to mistrust his or her clerk, and even their own memory, after taking stock of their wares. As for the accounts, they would either fall far above or far below the expected sum. Baffling scenes were spoken about in taverns, of strange visions whenever some of them caught sight of the two strangers going about their day – men who had gained the reputation of having power over the elements, as well as other sorceries, until the priest was obliged to take notice – knocking upon their door and meeting with a less than friendly reception. These arrogant and diabolic cottagers would not long be suffered to remain without the liberal use of the Obliviate spell – a point to which Severus eventually conceded.

When Severus returned late in the evening, he would often find the table spread with a hearty dinner and the occasional flourish beyond the finery of the humble ingredients and tableware. He would warm his feet by the fireside and savor something of the domestic happiness that he had yearned after for most of his life. During these moments of peace and repose, there remained a pang of doubt, as he looked at Lucius and wondered if he too had found some happiness to succour his weary days as he gazed into the fire.

“Do you think that we shall get used to this?” Severus asked the man, who sat beside him in an old rocking chair, a heavy quilt upon his lap and a mug of tea in his hands.

“If we must -- I suppose one can get used to anything,” Lucius answered, his eyes till fixed upon the flames.

“You look almost like you did then, in the mirror,” Severus said, hesitating.

“What do you mean?” he turned to him.

“The affection and desire which I associate with the mirror realm has ebbed away, but I think your health is returning – after...after Azkaban,” their eyes met and a silence passed between them as Lucius considered the other man’s words, his sense of guilt deepening as he interpreted them.

“Do you feel that I have let you down?” he asked him, afraid of what he would hear.

“No, only I worry that you feel you have made a mistake – that you are unable to feel love towards me.”

“I am sorry Severus, I confess that I too have been aware of a certain distance between us. It is strange that it should be so – it need not be,” he tried to console him, “perhaps this state of things shall not last.”

“You speak as if it is beyond our control. Why do you not kiss me, or reach out for the comfort even a poor man may cling to in the arms of one whom he loves?”

“In the mirror I was as you would have me be, yet here – I am not far removed from being, well, a Weasley,” he said in grim matter of fact way, “swathed in rags and supping upon boiled potatoes. It is hardly a romantic image"

“I still find you desirable, even as you are now, and as you will be one day as we each draw closer to those images craved into the masks that brought us here,” Severus rose from his chair and knelt beside Lucius, taking his hands and holding them as he looked into the man’s eyes.

“You are ever the romantic Severus,” he stroked his cheek gently, unable to dispel the sorrow which he felt at having taken the professor from what he believed was a better life than that which he could offer him in the near future.

“What is wrong with us here, as we are now?”

“We are not respectable, there is no dignity in such a life, and all pleasures seem but a mockery of their old selves,” Lucius said bitterly, still holding the other’s hands, while turning from his gaze, knowing well that the words which he had spoken would be hurtful, yet unable to deny their truth.

“If you were again surrounded by your old sycophants and machinations, would that be enough? Or what vanity is it that you miss to stroke your ego?”

“I am ashamed to live in this filthy hovel, at the mercy of those wretches who the Dark Lord would have crushed by the thousands – as I would gladly do myself while there is strength in me yet”

“Do you mean the man with the potato cart and the false scales or is it the cheapskate pawn broker -- upon whom you would you wreck your noble vengeance Lucius?”

“You find it amusing do you? That we are here their fools – treated like dogs,” Lucius rose from his chair and turned away from Severus.

“Do you know why the Malfoy family has always despised their kind? Surely you know -- our great grandparents were tortured and burned at the stake, our ancestors hunted by the Inquisition for sorcery. They are as cruel and merciless as any Death Eater – it is but fair that they should taste something of the evils which they had falsely accused us of during the times when we were too weak to -- ”

“I will hear no more of your ravings,” Severus grabbed him by the wrists and pushed him roughly against the wall.

Lucius regarded him with fury, yet did not attempt to free himself of the other’s grasp, his lip curling into a venomous smirk, as if to mark the futility of the so-called love that Severus professed under the strain of their circumstances. It was not for exiled dust covered figures such as themselves to have softness left for sentimentality, plagued incessantly by a thousand cares, a thousand insults, made worse by the knowledge of the gilded days of the past.

“I am sorry,” Snape relaxed his grip, his hands falling to Lucius’s waist as he pulled him close into an embrace.

A stirring warmth passed over the other wizard at the closeness of Severus against his body, and something in him caused him to try and yield to the feeling even as his anger still dwelled to poison his affections.

For the first time in many months, Lucius kissed him, looking at Snape as if at a loss for words once their lips separated.

“It is I who am sorry,” Lucius said at last, “I have been selfish and cold, consumed by my own wrath and frustration. It will not be this way much longer, I promise you Severus. We will leave this village and start anew, a place where we are not loathed or hunted.”

“I hope that it may be so, only it is not them who bring me the most pain, it is you, whose heart is obscure to me. When you kiss me, is it in sympathy and nothing more?”

“It is in love,” Lucius answered him, “what I reach at and hope is love. Only it is difficult for me to feel desire when I find myself to be a being unworthy of your feelings. I have nothing, you see, and as days go by, and I grow accustomed to...to this, I wonder if I will one day forget that there had once been another life where I had influence and respect, where the Minster himself would yield to my wishes – while here, the most lowly of Muggles may insult me with impunity. I cannot express it otherwise, I hope that you may understand my meaning – forgive me if lust no longer stirs my blood, if I feel anything so overpowering it is –“

“Your ego, through which your love and hatred is roused,” said Severus, “I believe I understand you perfectly,” he withdrew his hands from the other and looked at him with pity and disappointment.

“I regret that I have offended you,” his apology did not sound like one through his scowl

“Offended me?” scoffed Severus, “that is besides the point”

“Perhaps, if I am unable to give you what you want naturally, I could offer it to you through the Imperious Spell”

“What a strange proposition – to be _compelled_ to love. But you know how I am Lucius, I am as you say a ‘romantic’ and would not be satisfied with the semblance of the genuine – as impractical as that may be”

“Oh it would please me to think of nothing, to stand at a distance from my worries – to put an end to our arguments – which lead nowhere but to deepen our unhappiness”

“I shall not force myself upon you, that is not the way in which I would wish to consummate our bond,” Severus felt the tears welling in his eyes, his cheeks burning with shame and abhorrence.

“Forgive me Severus, it was not my intention to hurt you,” Lucius’s wrathful mood was softened by the sight of the other’s pain. He wrapped his arms around him and led him slowly to the bed, “you are tired and have not been sleeping properly, I could feel you turning in the night. I am here for you, I shall not desert you. It is not you nor I that is the reason for our unhappiness, it is this odious place – anyone would go mad here after a few months such as ours. We have been struggling to survive, doing so by lowly means unworthy of your talents. Our energy and our patience is drained by the end of each day, there is only so much one can bear. As I have promised you, we shall abandon this place soon enough – perhaps a few days more, if all goes as I have planned it. Then, then we shall be ourselves again.”

All of the other’s words counted for less to Severus than the softness of his touch and the affection which he could see in Lucius’s eyes as he kissed him – his neck, his shoulders, his lips – their arms and legs entangled. He believed that in the morning things would be different, that a spell of doubt would no longer vex his waking hours. Severus wanted to believe that the other wizard cared for him and submitted willingly to his efforts to make amends for their argument.


	15. Chapter 15

When at last the paperwork was signed, there was little to do of packing, their belongings being rather meager save for the reserves that were contained within the briefcase. Along with the manor house, they were able to purchase most of the owner’s library and furniture at auction, given that it was a sudden case of bankruptcy, they had their pick of most of the unfortunate man’s earthly possessions.

Upon their arrival, the first weeks were occupied with the purchase and arrangement of furniture, paintings, and books, many of which were sent over through Lucius’s agents by the coordination of Boghorn. As Severus had suspected, the wizard’s propensity towards caution waned over time, leading him to take greater risks for lesser trifles. Many evenings were spent arguing over the point of making contact with the wizarding world – all that it would take as one suspicious meddling witch or wizard to bring them to trial before the Ministry.

Severus proposed that he should wear the transfiguring mask whenever he left the manor, but this advice was flatly rejected. Lucius assured him with vehemence that none suspected and those who knew were of such a character as to be trusted. The compensating forcefulness of Lucius’s retorts to any intimation of impending difficulty had the opposite effect upon Severus, who read in them signs of the man’s own suppressed doubt in the arguments which he presented. At the same time, he could understand how it must have felt for him, to live in constant fear of detection – did he hope, instead, to bury his head like an ostrich and believe that what they dreaded was impossible?

After a particularly unpleasant argument, followed by many tense and silent breakfasts, the two were reconciled by a change in Lucius, who allowed Severus more sway as to the management of domestic matters and those of business related to the world beyond the community of Muggles scattered about the countryside. The most significant sign of the wizard’s effort to bend his will to that of his beloved was to accept an invitation from a Muggle family to what was a country ball – an event much anticipated by all who aspired to an invitation and those who but hoped to enjoy it vicariously through the inevitable account in the local paper upon the following day.

Neither of the two wizards felt confident in his abilities to masquerade amongst a party of the Muggle nobility, imagining the intricacies of manners, customs and dress greatly differed from those of the their own kind. Nevertheless, it was decided that they would attribute any idiosyncrasies to their foreign background and recluse studious lifestyle, rather than dealings in the diabolic sorceries with which they were branded while occupying the dilapidated old cottage. And given the amble amenities of the manor, they hope that there would be little need to do much magic out of doors. Moreover, Lucius had made certain that the majority of shops in the district would accept the little piece of plastic for any amount of goods that they should choose to purchase – and what shops they were, the size of palaces, housing all manner of Muggle curiosities that they appeared to the wizards more like museums than anything else. Most of the objects which they saw puzzled them, but they felt assured that they would be able to find decent food and the rest of what was required for regular household needs.

They would both style themselves as retired professors of archeology from Australia, who had spent many years travelling across various continents collecting artefacts for private collectors. Each took turns embellishing their history with details and nuances until it had a decent chance of passing a cursory interrogation, in so far as making sure that their accounts of one another sufficiently aligned. Names, dates and places were memorized, taken from novels and magazines left behind by the pervious owner of the house.

“Mr. Aaron Schonburnner Lawrence and Mr. Ludwig Creases Gustav kindly accept --,” Lucius spoke while writing out their reply in an elegant scrawl.

“Is it positively necessary that we should have middle names?” Severus looked over his shoulder as he stooped over the table. He feared that in some uncomfortable moment he might be at risk of forgetting whether he or Lucius was to be a Lawrence or a Gustav.

“I reckon we shall not reach such a level of familiarity,” he comforted.

“What do you suppose they do – at these...balls? Do you think we would be obliged to dance?”

“My prior interest in Muggle Studies is what you may reliably assume it to have been,” he said by way of answer.

“These books, is there anything that may guide us?” his eyes scanned the shelves of volumes left behind by the previous owner.

“I have not had time to look thoroughly at the fiction, and the histories are largely about their monarchs from centuries ago. Well – I have been leafing through this, as I discovered no fewer than four copies of it in various places of the house,” he opened a drawer and produced a well worn volume of Austen’s ‘Sense and Sensibility’.

“Hmm,” Severus picked it up and opened it to a random page, scanning over the engravings of romanticized figures. “And is this how we are to dress?”

“Do you imagine me to be an authority on Muggle fashion?” Lucius grew irritated by the other’s questioning as he tried to put together a decently amicable letter to people that inspired nothing but antipathy. 

“While some faults may be forgiven, it is imperative that we do not make such an impression as to become...memorable,” he gave Lucius a stern look over the edge of the book, then peered back at the image of some ladies and gentlemen whose attire was characterized by a profusion of lace, tightly fitting stockings, and bonnets.

“Do not trouble yourself Severus, we shall Obliviate any social faux-pas from their memories and not vex ourselves more than necessary about these Muggles,” Lucius insisted.

“My intention is that we should in time establish ourselves in this neighbourhood, even if it means that our friends and acquaintances are to be found among non-wizarding kind.”

“Are you truly suggesting that we befriend them -- Muggles?” he set down his quill in amazement. “Really Severus, we are not so desperate as that.”

“Would you rather that we live as lepers here?” he set down the book forcefully upon the table, “they will not ignore us, if that is what you were hoping for -- in this dungeon of a manor, and to appear antisocial will only provoke curiosity of the worst kind”

“I am not accountable for your tastes in decor, it is not too late to replace that odious rug – it need not be a ‘dungeon’ here as you term it, unless you wish to live the life of an acetic. In any case, I rather would prefer to have you to myself”

“That is not what I mean”

“All of this bickering, as if we are an old married couple,”

“That is what I supposed us to be,” Severus forced a smile, wondering if there was some way to be reconciled with the other.

“Well – I hope that you mean it in a flattering sort of way,” he sounded less than hopeful.

“I take a holistic definition”

“I see”

Severus watched his lips, remembering their soft touch upon his bare skin with a hint of sadness in his eyes.

Lucius curled his long fingers around a lock of Severus’s hair, then, standing up and drawing the man closer, holding him for a long moment. That morning they stayed in bed for longer than usual, although they did have the occasional argument it seemed less severe than before, there was more ease and affection between them, approaching that which they shared before they made their departure from the wizarding community and disappeared into exile. They would often amble about the garden or read to each other, no longer as burdened by the difficulties of maintaining their crumbling house and scavenging for necessities. Severus had leisure enough to work upon experiments in potions, continuing the aspects of his studies which he enjoyed most at Hogwarts, something both of the wizards had taken an avid interest in. Plans began to form about selling some of the more successful brews in the wizarding world through an agent. They were also glad to find that the villagers which they encountered in the new neighbourhood were a great deal more welcoming than their counterparts, and overall the move was a decided success. Whether this was due to a change in their own manner towards them or a distinction between the villages, it could not be said for certain.


	16. Chapter 16

It was six o’clock in the morning when the two wizards set out towards the country retreat of their illustrious neighbours, the Tensingtons. Much consideration had been given to the means by which they ought to arrive at their destination – while Apparating was the first choice to come to mind, they deemed the risk too high given their limited knowledge of the surrounding area, and the possibility of being sighted. The distance was far too great to walk, and the roads likely to be muddy at the time of year when the snow was melting. It was due to these reasons and others that an attempt was made to procure an automobile – confident in his abilities to master the operation of the Muggle contraption so broadly used across the country, Lucius believed that a week would be more than sufficient for him to make a good trial of the vehicle before it had to be put to use to get them to Tensington Manor.

With greater anticipation than the wizard would have cared to admit, the arrival of the sleek black BMW he had selected at a Muggle dealership was awaited with restrained impatience – even with the compromises that had been made at Severus’s persuasion to not be too ‘extravagant’ with his choice. Lucius sat at a table turning the pages of a book on car maintenance and repair, taking notes and making frequent reference to a less than enlightening glossary – reminded of how artists must have felt when tasked with illustrating the various beasts of exotic foreign lands, never entirely confident that the elephant which they imagined was the sort of thing that was being described.

Severus peered at him from time to time behind a book on potions, amused to see Lucius attempt something of the sort, seeing the look of vexation his brow as he concentrated upon the minute instructions detailing mysteries which were as yet inaccessible to him.

“I fear it is like those damnable alchemic texts which I had purchased about a decade ago, once you wade through all the nonsense there is really nothing there. All of the intrigue exists to mask the author’s ignorance,” he concluded, albeit from the looks of it he had not yet given up on the heavy manual, which he continued to annotate.

“Perhaps the book shall serve you better as a reference – to be referred to during times of need, rather than as something which you would endeavor to master from beginning to end, unless of course you wish to make this your pastime – meddling with automobiles,” Severus ventured to say, setting down his own book to glance over the pages of dissected cars.

“Yes, you may be right Severus,” the other sighed, taking some of his tea which had already grown cold and taking off his reading glasses as he rubbed his eyes.

As the morning dragged on, there was a point at which he was hardly aware of what he was reading, his gaze merely scanned over the words, without comprehending or trying to comprehend. His mind was elsewhere, frequently on the clock. When at last the doorbell rang, Lucius was forewarned by the sound of wheels upon gravel. With a casual air, he signed the rest of the paperwork and was left to his own devices and a large contraption jarring anachronistically with the surroundings of the old manor house.

Unfortunately, much as Severus had feared, the venture proved less successful than anticipated. He watched from the window of his study as his friend set out to go outside, hurrying out to the vehicle through the downpour of rain, wrapped in a heavy black overcoat.

The wheels churned the mud, making trenches in the uneven dirt road, as Lucius struggled to get the vehicle out, at last resorting to magic – having the mud-spattered machine hover out of its dire plight. As soon as it was set down upon the ground, its wheels continuing to revolve at top speed, jumping over a flowerpot which was cracked to smithereens. Rubbing his temple, Severus descended the staircase and stood under a stone archway, watching the proceedings with no small amount of concern as the car nearly missed a tree on its course across the lawn. After snaking through a frozen patch of cabbages, it came to a sudden halt, colliding with a moss-covered wall much of which was to be found crumbled upon the hood of the machine.

Lucius Malfoy climbed out, slamming the door and brushing the dust and glass from his coat. Severus ran towards him carrying a windblown umbrella which he eventually cast aside. He began to speak a healing charm as soon as he observed the bleeding from a gash upon the other’s forehead, while Lucius tried to pacify him, saying that the injuries were but slight – although the automobile was rather in ruins. To this he added that while it may be possible to repair the damage, it was surely not worth the bother, not in that weather certainly. With their combined effort, they managed to move the car out to an old shed for the time being, where an alternative plan suggested itself.

A finely crafted canoe was discovered, not too far from the lake. From an inspection of maps of the area, they saw that this lake connected to a river which weaved its way along a bank which eventually reached the Tensington estate. While there were perhaps easier ways to reach the event, such as by hiring a driver, this one had a whimsical appeal to them as a kind of expedition to see more of the countryside. They therefore resolved to leave early on the morning of the event and reach the place by boat. To add to the pleasures of the journey, they packed a picnic lunch of scones, milk, jam, cheese, meat pies and other savories, along with a jug of tea which they would warm up when the time came.

The route which they traced was a leisurely one, the current of the waters making little resistance against their oars. Although the sky was overcast by clouds, the wind and rain which had kept them indoors during the past few days had abated. Occasionally, they would stop along their route to rest on a snowy bank, sitting down upon a quilt-covered bench under a towering elm tree in order to take in the peaceful melancholy views of rolling farmland, moors, dilapidated stone walls and thatch-roofed cottages.

There was a feeling of repose about these landscapes, such that one could let the hours pass by listening to the twittering of robins, or else, follow the larks as they swooped about in the air over the ruins of an abandoned castle tower. During this journey, the professor reverted to his old ways by bringing along some glass vials in which he captured valuable specimens which he caught along the way – bones, scales, feathers and wings of newts, spiders, egg shells, moths and beetles which the thawing snow had revealed. The other wizard watched languidly, everything seemed to take on a dreamlike ambiance, such that he had nearly forgotten to offer to take over the business of the rowing, watching the sun set over the flat horizon, streaking the sky with orange and magenta hues.

They also gathered flowers and berries, which by magic they caused to bloom ahead of their natural season, whenever signs of such flora were spotted along woodland trails which began or ended at one of the banks. These they would use to make potions, cordials and jams – thinking of how pleasant such household tasks would be during times when worry and want did not press upon them.

When at last they reached the port which they sought, the sky was growing dark and the hooting of an owl was heard somewhere in the distance. This reminded Lucius that it had been a long time since he had received a letter and again some anxiety for his son revisited his thoughts, the other wizard told him that it was natural that the boy may lapse at times, distracted by studies or pass-times, or perhaps it was simply a lull in anything newsworthy, or even something like moodiness which kept him from sending a letter. Or was it the owl, an unreliable creature, that was to be suspected. These and other thoughts were exchanged between them until the imposing manor house gates came into view, built of strong iron bars wrought into curling and twisting shapes in the baroque style. They examined their shoes and clothing before entering, finding them somewhat bespattered with mud from the ascent up the gravel path and its puddles of melted snow. This the blond promptly remedied with a subtle charm, while Severus removed a withered leaf that was caught in the other’s hair that had been tied in a ponytail.

The professor felt a bout of self-consciousness affect him as he passed the rows of cars parked outside of the gate. The liveried servants that had been stationed in front of the house eyed them curiously as they ascended the steps and presented their invitation card. There was a roar of intermingled voices issuing from within which they prepared themselves to encounter.


	17. Chapter 17

A large crystal chandelier illuminated a bustle of figures that crowded near the staircase, many clutching the thin stems of glasses while huddled in groups and in couples in endless chatter. The sound of a piano was heard to intermingle amongst the voices of the guests, as well as the scent of pine coming from large decorative bushels arranged around bright crimson flowers and branches of gilded berries – recalling the approach, or rather, the arrival of the festive season.

Waiters passed through the throngs carrying silver trains upon which were various dainties -- miniature mince pies, lobster pastries, scallop biscuits, turkey watercress sandwiches and currant cheesecakes. Taking a glass of some fizzing beverage and an assorted platter of sweetmeats, Severus led the other towards where the piano was heard. Thus far none had approached them in conversation, although several times their eyes had met with those of a stranger, which they encountered with forced smiles or surreptitiously averted eyes. There was no sign of the host or hostess, whom they in any case would not have recognized by sight.

A considerable group gathered in the music room, where a harp and grand piano were surrounded by other instruments suspended in frames upon the wall – this collection consisted primarily of old violins outlined in green velvet, hung in gilding. Under each was a label, detailing the year and maker of the instrument. It was the piano, however, that was the object of everyone’s attention, raised upon a platform a foot off the ground and surrounded by several rows of high-backed chairs where guests were seated, some engaged in avid whispering, while others stared in apparent admiration at the young lady playing a cheerful melody upon the instrument to the accompaniment of her sister’s soft melodious voice.

Most were dressed in costumes in the fashion of eras of old, creating a carnival effect as different centuries mingled chaotically with one another in the crowded halls. It was difficult to say which time period held reign, as people passed through in the garb of Roman emperors, Egyptian queens and forest nymphs. The somber blacks and grays which characterized the two wizards gave them a reserved ecclesiastic appearance, as did their expressions which did not invite conversation or spontaneity. Each felt it was his duty to make some effort in the direction of the crowd, but by wariness or antipathy, they spend most of the evening occupying chairs at some distance from the musically inclined guests who tried their hand at the grand piano. They clapped respectfully for each of the performers, while Lucius gave a critique of their abilities in low whispers, mostly of a scathing nature, growing more indulgent with every glass Severus poured for him until he rose from his chair and played an improvised requiem of his own which went unappreciated by the audience. With some regret, the professor thought it was time to use a sobering charm upon him, to which Lucius took offense for he had only been drinking soda water.

From time to time they would wander about to sample the appetizers, and, summoned at last to dinner, took their seats at their appointed place – circling about until they finally recognized their pseudonyms. It was at this point that a dowager in a pink voluminous gown observed that she did not know them and asked which part of the county they had arrived from. Lucius gave vague directions and did his best to respond to the rest of her interrogations -- which were growing increasingly impertinent by measures -- in a way that would not draw astonishment or suspicion that there was anything abnormal about the two recluses who recently moved to the countryside.

Lucius sincerely praised the natural beauty of the region and, less sincerely, the amiable company to be found nearby when asked about the origin of his wig. The woman nodded knowingly, something in her eyes hinting that she was not entirely satisfied with these answers, and so she turned to Severus, asking him about their life hitherto the move. He took the opportunity to reply that the hairs of the wig were specially sourced from a village of Norwegian mountain maidens whose locks were harvested for the sole supply of Mr.Gustav, who had spent much of his formative years in the wig trade, having to sell his own hair during times of need. The somber tone of the professor was calculated to provoke not the slightest bit of doubt, nevertheless, he felt a hard kick under the table while Lucius continued to smile rigidly at the dowager’s sympathetic replies.

At this, Severus turned the topic to relate some of the troubles which they had experienced while occupying the ‘cozy’ cottage that had been their previous abode – from the leaking roof to the incident with the badgers. At this she raised her brow, wondering at the contrast in their accommodations, from hut to manor, and presumed that they had come upon a sudden inheritance, which none attempted to contradict.

The chiming of a bell was heard at the head of the table and all eyes turned to the hostess, a plump woman in a sparkling blue gown and arms, throat and bushy dark hair spangled with shimmering jewels. She smiled a scarlet-lipped smile as she scanned the room, as if taking attendance, before making a speech of profound gratitude and well-wishing. Some chimed in with praises for the hostess and other such niceties before at last the dining was commenced, with a dozen or so waiters swooping down with elaborate platters, marching clockwise around the table and serving each of the guests in order of rank.

After the dinner plates were cleared, the guests were welcomed to an assortment of cakes and ices, which many were too full to enjoy. Some dispersed to card tables or to gossiping, while the two wizards were again left in a somewhat uncomfortable position of not knowing what to do with themselves. While Lucius had hosted similar evenings with the aid of his wife, the unfamiliar company and his long standing prejudices kept him from mingling amongst the guests, while Severus had never been one to take pleasure in large gatherings of any kind, with their fatuous conversation and purposeless pastimes. Often one or the other would glace at the grandfather clock in the main hall, wondering if it was an appropriate time to attempt a departure.

When they discussed this questions, both felt that they had failed to accomplish much by their visit, in contrast to the amount of anticipation and anxiety it had caused them. Weary from the lateness of the hour, drawing well past midnight, they sought to find the host to bid their formal goodbyes. As they wandered about the halls of the manor, they were suddenly accosted by a man with a sharp gray beard in thin round spectacles perched upon an upturned nose. He seemed to be exceedingly pleased to have happened upon them, as if they were his especial guests. With a profusion of enthusiasm he embraced them heartily and offered them passage into his _theatrum mundi_ \-- such that they feared that perhaps they had met Mr. Tensington before and forgotten him.


	18. Chapter 18

Such an invitation could not be refused, while peaking their interest in some degree, the gentleman steered them by the shoulders up a wide staircase in a comradery fashion, talking all the while in some language that they could not quite place, which may have been some distortion of Latin as far as Severus could perceive. When at last they reached the top of the stairs, their legs aching after seven flights, the sounds of the gregarious multitude below was hardly discernable. They felt as if they had scaled a mountain, and perhaps this was the man’s intention, to instill the sense that his honored guests had ascended to a height beyond the commons, reaching the Olympus of knowledge and learning. Praises of the vast collection which awaited them were sung in snatches as the middle-aged gentleman struggled between breaths.

With a confidential air, he fumbled about in his pocket and held up a ring of keys before his guests, who were unable to mask a certain foreboding that a mistake had been made as they exchanged glances. The man, as if reading their thoughts, assured them that if the village rumors as to their reputation were true, then it was a case of great fortune that their paths had so conveniently crossed. They – fellow seekers after the mysteries of nature, were inevitably misunderstood, and thereby feared by the uninitiated. Yet they were sure to find amiable company among the discerning seekers such as himself, who was most grateful to receive them. Without further ado, he placed the key into the brass keyhole of large wooden door and pushed it open with the force of his shoulder, revealing a veritable museum of natural and unnatural curiosities.

Nearly every inch of the wall, and much of the floor, was occupied by display cases, frames and shelves containing beast, fish, and fowl – and at times, some hybrid of two or three such domains.

A clear precedence in the collection was given to creatures of rare or strange anatomy, over beauty of form or color. Pygmies, mutants, albinos, and what were clearly contrived anomalies – such as a monkey’s head and torso transplanted onto the merman-like tail of a fish – were intermingled with beings which the two wizards were surprised to find in the abode of a Muggle. Expertly preserved specimens of hippogriff and house elf stood in one corner of the room, and as their eyes scanned over a kaleidoscope of butterfly wings and feathers, their credulity was tested as they rested upon the skull of what may well be a giant or cyclops, crudely human in exaggerated proportion.

Suddenly, Severus observed that in the shadow behind a marble-like statue of a two headed doe, stood the figure of a youth. Recognition dawned upon him as he tried to discern the urchin’s features through the dim light of the solitary bulb overhead. The flat nose and lopsided mouth, a plaid-pattern cap and green patched jacket. He had seen the boy before in the garden of the old cottage, at first he had thought that the intruder’s mission was to steal or scavenge, yet this was not so, for as Severus watched him out of the corner of his eye, the fellow did little but stare at the house from his vantage point amongst the overgrown raspberry bushes.

At the time, the wizard had made no sign to Lucius, so as not to alert the onlooker that he had been discovered, but waited to see what the young hooligan would do.

Seating himself at their rickety wooden dinner table, Snape had a decent view of the window as he cut into a roast magpie pasty, distractedly cutting it into little pieces. The time passed unnervingly slowly and it was not long before their eyes met – the youth did not know what to do, it appeared that he had not gotten what he had come from, yet having been detected, it would be difficult and unwise to make a swift depart then and there.

Afraid to move, he continued to stare, paralyzed in pace during the cold winter evening. That night, Severus remained awake, listening for any sounds of attempted entry. When morning arrived, even the footsteps of their strange neighbor were buried, hidden beneath a fresh layer of snow.

Nor was there any sign of him during the days that followed, except those discernible by means of magic.

Severus had set charms which would alert him if any human attempted to climb past the broken stone wall surrounding their cottage, the stones turning a shade of red after several hours wherever a human arm or leg touched them. The wizard did not know how to interpret this trespassing, nothing was taken nor were they in any way disturbed, it seemed that the objective of the youth was that of a spy.

He then felt that it was necessary to inform Lucius of what was happening, sending both of them into a state of great anxiety, suspecting that the boy may have been sent by the Ministry. This was one of the reasons which induced them to move, while both greatly feared that it may well be too late. But for nearly a month since then nothing had occurred to rouse further apprehension, and the snooping character was written off as a mere idle vagrant who had little else to do than to spy upon his neighbors.

Yet there he stood, like a specter among beasts and monstrosities. No words were spoken as the master of the collection stood aside, his arms behind his back, allowing the spectators of his life’s work to breathe in the dusty air surrounding his prized curiosities. 

After this reverential pause, he proceeded to lead the two wizards through pieces of significance, without reading the intricate plaques and labels before them, he related the species, origin and date of each from memory. They lingered in front of an enormous luminescent fish with three rows of thin hair-like teeth. This specimen, captured from the freezing waters of the arctic ocean by a team of deep-sea divers, was known for its eerie howling sounds, like a ghostly banshee – often associated with the restless spirits of the native tribes who built their homes upon the ice.

Then, they stood under the shadow of a woman with six arms, thin and arachnid-like, her face bearing a striking malevolence. The skin of this being was darkened from the effects of fire and time, charred and leathery, making one wonder at the story of her untimely end. This story the hospitable curator was glad to provide unasked, the woman had been a leper ostracized from her village and sent to the volcanic deity as an offering – rescued too late by a fellow linguist and anthropologist studying the ways of the obscure tribe of fire worshippers. These and other wonderous tales were presented to the two guests, who felt ill at ease regarding the enthusiastic reception, awaiting to discover the end which Mr. Tensington by cultivating their acquaintance.

This was forthcoming only once they had sat down to coffee, at the unsociable hour of two or three in the morning. At this point, the man revealed to them his chief wish based upon the evidence of the youth, a son of his gardener: the opportunity to learn more of their sorcery – yes, of this he was assured -- to work alongside them as fellow seekers after knowledge, his repeated mantra. But before he could go further in praising these lines of research, Lucius stressed upon him that some mistake had been made, that they were ordinary men and had no knowledge of such businesses. At this point the youth interrupted, to the astonishment of all gathered there, who had nearly forgotten his presence – all except for Severus, whose eyes would flicker occasionally to the hostile gaze of the boy.

The youth gave an account of the various forms of magic he had seen them perform over the course of several weeks. The fruits of his spying included spells for lighting fires, moving heavy objects and causing water to fill as vessel by unnatural means.

Lucius protested that the gentleman ought not be so credulous as to believe the words of the fanciful uneducated boy, giving the impudent young man a look to rival his own.

Mr. Tensington sensed that it was time to conclude the evening, or rather morning, of festivities. While a few cars remained, most had departed some time earlier, so that they were among the last to leave. There was a cold tension in their mode of parting as they bowed to the man’s wife and daughters, who had had a long sleepless night and did not entirely approved of the patriarch’s hobby, finding it to be an unprofitable and unwholesome pastime which brought all kinds of strange and undesirable people into their house.

The two wizards had not anticipated that they would be kept at the manor until such a late hour and so it was with much dread that they trudged their way to the tree where they had moored their boat. Lucius supported the professor as he struggled with a twisted ankle, having stumbled upon a root hidden under the snow. They were eventually able to locate the lantern which they had hidden in the hollow of a solitary tree, making the rest of the way a great deal less perilous.

They took turns rowing the boat, at times there was a necessity to melt some of the ice with a spell as a sheet had formed over the water since they first glided over it. When they in due course neared their abode, the outline of Owlcot manor was a source of much relief, renewing their strength to row faster. With the remainder of their energies, they hauled the wooden vessel upon the bank and looked for the track leading to the entrance gate. From a distance, they lit a fire in the hearth by which they yearned to warm themselves, too tired even to brood upon the implications of Mr. Tensington’s interest in them. The brief exchange that they had while rowing upon the river made them of one opinion, that they wished to have nothing to do with the man, only they wondered if he may prove dangerous to their interests if they chose to distance themselves. Then there was the youth, who made little effort to hide his aversion towards them, expressed in morose glares of something like hatred all the while they had spoken with his master.

That night, a strange dream of the room of curiosities occurred to Lucius, yet it was not the bespectacled man who greeted them there but the shrouded form of a Dementor, leading him in a trance round and round the room, each time revealing a different face of abomination, until, at the dream’s finale, it unshrouded its own horrible countenance, causing the wizard to wake up in a cold sweat, looking about him in the heavily curtained room. Severus, awakened by the movement, tried to comfort him, pulling into his arms. They held one another for some time, discussing the dream and trying to dispel one another’s worries.

Still unable to fall sleep, Lucius asked his beloved to use the Imperius spell upon him to compel him into a restful state of mind, which he reluctantly consented to do, troubled by the increasing frequency of such uses of the forbidden spell, as benign and consensual as they did seem. After it had ended, Severus continued to hold him, wishing that the warmth of his presence would have an equally soothing effect. Lucius kissed him with a tired gentle affection as he looked upon him with gratitude and love, lightly stroking Severus’s hair until sleep drifted over their exhausted bodies.


	19. Chapter 19

For some time, shipments of marble would arrive in the early hours of the morning, the sound of the familiar truck causing Lucius to rush from the breakfast table to survey the quality of the blocks of white stone.

The project which had been taking up most of the wizard’s time for nearly a month Severus also connected with the excavation of an underground level – he presumed that it might be some kind of secret chamber where they could take shelter, his conjectures wandering to possibilities such as an enchanted labyrinth where they may, at least for a time, elude the Ministry if it came to that. As hard as he tried to question Lucius on it, he remained resolutely elusive with his answers, promising Severus that it was for his own good that he should remain oblivious until the project was accomplished.

This had rather the opposite effect upon the other’s curiosity, nevertheless, he promised not to ‘spoil the surprise’.

As the month drew to a close, the professor was not surprised that he had almost forgotten a certain day of the year which, at best, had meant a dinner party either at Hogwarts or at the Malfoys – the celebration of his birthday.

When he awoke that morning Lucius was not in the bed. After putting on a robe, Severus soon found him laying out a brunch of eggs Benedict, bacon, pancakes, fruit and scones. They both felt tired and worn out from the previous night and so few words were spoken between them as they shared a quiet meal. When Severus had had his fill, the other wizard announced that it was time for him to see ‘the surprise’.

Undoing the charm over the lock, Lucius led him by the hand down an opulent marble staircase, the pillars of which were shaped into the form of sphinxes standing on their hind legs, supporting the heavy banister. Contrary to what Severus expected from a subterranean chamber, a pleasant warmth emanated from below, only he could discern nothing in the pitch black darkness ahead.

Lucius offered him his arm as they continued, at one point, asking him to remove his shoes and his robe. At this strange request, several hanging lanterns lit up with blue flames, illuminating a large fountain, big enough to swim laps in. Ornately carved swans, chimeras and winged serpents were arranged around the circular pool of shimmering water, like guardians poised before the alter of a deity. At the center of this wondrous work was a half submerged sphere, like a life-like model of a sun which rotated in the water, emanating warmth from its fiery core.

As Lucius raised his arm, the sphere began to rise, hovering higher and higher until it ascended to take its place amongst a several dozen such orbs suspended amid the darkness of the domed ceiling. The fountain then began to sink until it was level with the ground, so that one may easily step into the water without climbing over its edges. Severus looked around, his mouth slightly open as he beheld the intricate details of mosaics and stone carvings with a feeling of awe.

“Happy Birthday Severus,” the blond took his hand and kissed it lightly, looking at him with an almost self-conscious expectation, “does it…please you?”

“I am rather at a loss for words,” Severus drew nearer to him, stroking his hair as Lucius held his hand, feeling overwhelmed by the beautiful gift and the other’s kindness.

“There is something else,” Lucius withdrew from him for a moment, approaching one of the alcoves where there stood two crystal glasses, one of which he offered to Severus. “Drink this.”

“What is it?” the man looked down at the liquid and after inhaling its scent, intermingled with that incense which wafted through the room, he knew at once that it was polyjuice potion.

“Yes, I can see it in your eyes that you have guessed it, but there is still an element of surprise which remains I should hope,” from the pocket of his robe he withdrew a thin black case. Opening it, he revealed two objects: a silver pendant engraved with the initials ‘A.M’ and a lock of black hair tied with a faded green ribbon. Severus recognized the latter – he had given it to Lucius as a keepsake when he they had been students at Hogwarts, the sight of it brought a flood of memories to his mind, some of the happiest and most painful that he had ever experienced.

He recalled the early years of their friendship, how they had played against each other in the final rounds of the school’s wizard chess championships, and how Snape had defeated Malfoy in his second year. While less than pleased to lose to him, the boy had gained some degree of respect towards his opponent, and they took to practicing together, not only chess but also preparing for their lessons – discovering a shared interest in potions and the dark arts. Although Lucius had other friends, he had been on less than intimate terms with them, while with Severus he found himself more at ease – there was something vulnerably sincere about the awkward lanky half-blood, in the tactless way that he expressed his friendship and the obvious loneliness of his position, which he bore with the pride of a seemingly incorrigible lone-wolf.

At first Lucius had found it irksome to be constantly followed about by a boy who had all of the chief attractions for a broad hierarchy of tormentors and bullies, among whom he regretted to admit that he had been one on occasion. Yet the more he got to know Severus, the more he liked him, finding that he enjoyed the other’s company on a level that made him see Snape as an equal – his abilities and strength of character distinguished him from the rank and file of boys who sought to ingratiate themselves into the favor of the powerful Malfoy family. Just like his father, Lucius soon learned to distinguish amongst the various forms of friendship that were presented to him.

Severus’s company also served the purpose of encouraging him in his studies, their rivalry and the need to retain an outward appearance of superiority over the younger student urged him to exert himself to learn spells and potions beyond those taught to each and every student. Indeed it was not long before the two able and studious pupils caught the eye of professor Slughorn, their initiation into the teacher’s exclusive circle further cementing their bond.

However, there were some things that continued to vex Severus, such as the other boy’s reluctance to visit him during the holidays or a lack of invitations to meet his family, the reason he suspected eventually being confirmed – while Lucius’s mother did not mind him being a poor half-blood, the blond knew that his father would give a less than pleasant reception to Severus if he were ever to visit the manor. There was no delicate way of skirting about the matter and young Snape had been understandably displeased, while some of his discontent was left to fall upon Lucius in conscious and subconscious ways.

He remembered how they would fight and roughhouse at times, such games taking a rise after a certain defense against the dark arts lesson through which they discussed what each of them would do if they were disarmed of their wands -- leading them to seek out spells and hexes to master that would not require the use of a wand. Engaged in such studies, sitting on the lawn under the canopy of an old yew tree, they began to joke about having to defend themselves without the use of any magic at all, such as if they were attacked while outside of Hogwarts while still being underage wizards.

Severus recalled pouncing upon Lucius, so that they rolled down the steep hill in front of the castle, and then the playful wrestling that ensued; in the end their clothes were covered in grass stains and Severus had even managed to tear his cloak.

Both of them breathless and laughing, Lucius insisted that he would buy him a new cloak to replace the one he had ruined, while Snape told him that he could in no way accept it. After some back and forth lighthearted arguing, Lucius relented to the dark-haired boy’s compromise of giving him one of his old cloaks, for as Snape had disputed, the one that was ruined was a threadbare old thing anyways, and it would be hardly fair to replace it with something far better than what it was worth.

In secret, Severus wanted nothing more than an item of the other’s clothing, something that would have his scent, something that had touched his skin. For a long time he kept it hidden in his pillowcase, taking it out at night to hold.

Another memory was when they were reading books on divination for a dreaded assignment, finding it hard to concentrate on what they felt was little more than pedantic bogus ornamented with intricate diagrams of stars, planets and fanciful constellations. Snape could no longer remember the joke or the reason, but at one point they had tired of studying and he had whacked Lucius with his book, earning himself a punch and then the right to pull at the other’s long blond hair, something which he had taken to do with such frequency that Malfoy was beginning to get truly annoyed. In reality, behind the playful joking, there was a desire to make physical contact with the one he so admired, his body, his hair -- everything. Under no other pretence could Severus justify it than by what was naturally brushed off as the boyish teasing.

Only he feared that at times that he appeared irritating or immature to Lucius, who would roll his eyes and call him a pest when the mild annoyances began to get old. Nevertheless, it was that night, while they were reading the divination books sitting upon Severus’s bed that something strange happened. While trying to pull the book out of Snape’s hand, Lucius pinned him down with the weight of his body, his knee between the other’s legs, falling upon the other as he struggled to get the ‘weapon’ out of his hand, the two of them grinning while trying to keep up something like anger. All the while, Severus was acutely conscious of the weight of the blond’s body upon his, his breath close to his ear, his disheveled hair falling over his face. A nauseating warmth rushed to his cheeks and he felt the book pulled out of his hands, hearing it slip off the bed and fall to the floor with a thud.

Lucius was still on top of him, pinning him down and smiling at him with a menacing satisfaction which Severus found seductive. He felt too that his own knee, which he had pressed against the other’s groin had caused him to become aroused.

Severus wondered if the youth could tell how he felt or what the reciprocity could mean, his thoughts wandering down forbidden paths while he looked at Lucius with uncomfortable tension, equally afraid and desirous that his friend should acknowledge how he hoped the two of them felt – acknowledging something he could not yet bring himself to put into words, as if it might break the spell.

The blond lowered his head, resting it partially on the pillow and on Severus’s shoulder, saying nothing. He could hear his heart pounding. Then, suddenly, there was the sound of footsteps and distant talking. As if roused from a dream, they separated, their cheeks burning red. Lucius reached down clumsily after the book which had fallen while Severus pulled his legs up to his chest, sitting in the corner of the bed trying to avoid eye contact.

The students glanced at them and walked by while Severus was filed with an unwarranted hatred towards them. Lucius reminded him that they were going to be late for Transfiguration and started to rummage about for his textbook, telling Snape that he would meet him there. In a bit of a daze, the dark-haired youth lingered on the bed, he knew from the other’s startled reaction, as well as his own, that there was an understanding between them that they had done something that was not quite right, perhaps for Lucius something that was only half-perceived and not fully acknowledged for what it was. Nevertheless, it gave Severus hope.

When he returned to his dorm after class he found that his bed was made and some of the things which he had left out were carefully arranged upon the nightstand. There was a certain fresh and immaculate feeling about the entire room, unnatural to its character as an abode for young wizards. Then it dawned on him, the house elves – they must have done one of their rounds of deep cleanings. With this realization, he began to frantically undo the bed and upturn many a pile of alphabetized books, nearly overturning his inkstand. ‘Where was it!’ Severus muttered under his breath as he searched for the robe. When at last he found it, a day later, laying perfectly folded upon his blanket, he gritted his teeth as he breathed in its fresh scent of mint and pine, so unlike the cologne which he associated with Lucius Malfoy.

In the days that followed, Severus could tell that something was wrong. Lucius seemed to be avoiding him; at first he wondered if it was just his imagination, but soon it became rather clear to him. They no longer spent as much time together, and when they did, the blond was much more strict about keeping to their work. He became stern and distant with Severus in everything that they did, while at other times he would see him in the company of other boys whom Severus had a natural contempt for – the sort that would likely hang him by the shoes from a tree if he were not a fellow Slytherine.

He would hear snatches of their conversation, consisting primarily of complaints and crude jokes, making Snape wonder what Lucius had to gain from such lowly company. The one thing that they seemed to have in common, he observed, was that they were from wealthy pureblood families, some of whom were notorious for being dark wizards, much against the Ministry’s benign position towards Muggles. Even before he had met Lucius, Severus was not oblivious to Mr. Malfoy’s reputation, only such things had faded into the background as he got to know young Malfoy.

They would rarely discuss politics nor had he ever made him feel inferior, it was therefore difficult to believe that his friend seemed to be walking upon the footsteps of his father – slipping away from him.

The more distance Lucius seemed to create between them, the more Severus’s desire grew – no longer did he have even the consolation of the other’s company, it was as if a mask had fallen over his thoughts and feelings whenever they were together. All that he could do was watch him from a distance, and even this he feared was something shameful and offensive to Lucius, for whenever their eyes would meet across the dinner table at the great hall, the other would look away, pretending that it had not been so.

Even other students remarked upon the change in their friendship and Severus was angered to overhear Lucius brush it off as insignificant, that they were merely studying for exams at the time – that that was all Snape was good for. 

Contrary to what Lucius had said to his so-called pals, he did not believe that the wizard truly found him dull. He believed that the pleasure they got from each other’s company, the laughs and confidences which they shared were genuine – while with others Lucius was playing a role, seeming older than he was, like some pompous old git.

At night, Severus would bury his face in his pillow, trying to hold back tears as he clutched fistfuls of blanket, cursing and pleading with the vague omnipotent forces which guided his life for some rest from the pain and longing that he felt.

As the semester approached its end, there was no sign of things getting better, not at all. Lucius remained aloof from him, treating him like something he had discarded.

Even in the absence of hope Severus waited, unable to believe or accept that his friend had abandoned him so callously. He knew that he had to speak to him and at last the opportunity came when he saw him alone in the common room, sitting in an armchair working on an assignment. Snape approached him, the anger and necessity which had emboldened him evaporating when Lucius looked up at him with an inscrutable expression.

“Well Severus, what is it?” he sounded impatient as he set down his quill, leaning back in the throne-like armchair. At this response, Severus’s frustration was roused again and he felt an urge to pull him down onto the floor by the collar, or else, to scream.

“Why! Why do you torment me?” the words escaped him before he could stop them. He had planned to appear nonchalant, easing into the topic, avoiding confrontation, but all these rehearsed speeches were torn to shreds by the emotions which overwhelmed him. He had kept them locked inside for too long, such that the pressure of them made it feel like his chest could not contain them.

“What do you mean, I hardly see you”

“Exactly! Why – answer me, stop pretending that this is nothing. We must talk about what happened –“

“Must we?”

“Yes, for the sake of my sanity, if you care one ounce about me”

“I care a great deal more than that, if that is your chief concern”

“It—it is,” Severus stumbled, not expecting the other to be so frank with him so soon, unless he was only toying with him. “You have a strange way of showing it”

“It is not my intention to show it. And I hoped it would not be necessary to tell it either. There are certain things that should not be talked about Severus -- as much as I value your candor, you can be rather a fool really.”

As pain and fury shot through him, Severus was afraid that if he answered in the wrong way, the other would speak no more of what he needed to hear – that he would hide behind the façade again and the truth which he sought to grasp at would become unreachable.

“Please Lucius, ” his voice sounded hoarse. He shut his eyes tightly and sunk to the ground, wrappings his arms around the other student’s legs like a groveling penitent, his head slumped against his knee. “Please”

“Please what? Get up, what do you think you’re doing?”

“I must know, is it because I care for you as more than a friend that you are…disgusted with me? That you avoid me now? I know such things cannot be helped, but –but I thought you might have also felt -- ” he stumbled, sensing that he should speak no further lest he should provoke Lucius rather than encourage his sympathy. At the same time, he felt ashamed and humiliated, a part of him questioning whether someone who truly cared for him would subject him to such pain as what he had felt all that time – only he did not know, perhaps he did not know.

“I was not disgusted with you, not until you looked as if you were about to kiss my feet. Get up,” there was a harshness in his expression which sought to mask the burning in his face as he heard the other express his feelings. He longed to embrace him, to kiss his eyes which seemed to be near to tears which the boy fought so hard to suppress.

“Tell me then, why do you avoid me?” Severus rose to his feet, feeling a numbness and exhaustion.

“Because it is not possible for me to return your affections,” answered Lucius, “regardless of how I might feel” he hesitated before he spoke these last words, wondering if their effect would be to soothe or to cause deeper pain in the end.

“Why?” silent tears were beginning to roll down his cheek, “why can’t you?” his own voice sounded childish and pathetic in his own ears. Severus reached out to him but Lucius rose from his seat, picking up his bag and stuffing his parchment and writing things into it, spilling the ink over his assignment in the process with a curse.

“I must go Severus, I’m sorry,” he forced his way past Snape, who made a final effort to cling to his arm, trying to detain him and the damnable sobs which he could not help. Lucius did not turn to look at him as he swept out of the common room.

“You bastard! Coward! You cannot leave – I challenge you--” Snape shouted after him, reaching for his wand and throwing a hex after him which missed and collided with the stone doorway.

“Have you gone mad Snape?” a first year boy staggered back as he looked between Severus and the burn mark on the stone, “are you alright, what happened? I just saw Malfoy – are you going to duel with him? I can be your second if--”

“Shut up,” hissed Severus, turning his face away in embarrassment in case other boys should hear about him crying. The last thing he needed was for others to start discussing him, and as for Lucius, all that he could hope was that he was too ashamed for his own self-interested reputation to make a joke out of him. 

He imagined that things would go on much as they had for the past months, only perhaps worse. Instead, it seemed that Lucius was repentant.

At the beginning of the next term, he received a letter from Lucius asking if he would like to pick up their books together – that he would meet him at Diagon Alley at such and such a time. Prior to their last meeting, he would have been glad to – elated even, but his wounds were still too fresh to take up the offer. He hated himself as much as Lucius for the way he had behaved, like an iterant house elf begging for mercy. He too had his pride and was much ashamed to have lost control of himself, few students could have imagined seeing Snape in tears. And so, he tore up the letter, a secret part of him half hoping that another would come, one where Lucius would be begging_ him_ and confessing his mistakes and laying bear his heart. But no letter ever came. Instead, two weeks later, a dozen or so owls delivered a heavy stack of books, barely getting them through the window – something which Severus found very stupid as he was left with two sets of books which he could not easilyreturn nor sell, lest people should end up asking why Lucius Malfoy was buying his books for him.

Malfoy’s efforts did not stop there, although nothing like their former friendship ever returned, he nevertheless continued to intervene in the other’s life, whether he liked it or not. To Snape’s chagrin, the other’s meddling at times had most negative consequences, such as when Lucius had gone to argue with the Divination professor about the unfairness of Snape’s near-failing grade. How Lucius had discovered his grades he could not tell, but he went so far as to threaten the professor that his father, a leading member of the Hogwarts board of governors, would not long tolerate incompetent and biased evaluations of student performance – requiring the professor to demonstrate the accuracy of his craft and methods of assessment before the board. After some struggles with the headmasters, the Malfoys succeeded in embarrassing the professor, but not of banishing him from Hogwarts – on the pretext that Divination was not something that could be done at beck and call and that it suffered in the presence of unbelieving witnesses. The outcome of these proceedings was that the professor’s dislike for Severus mounted to new heights, such that he was obliged to repeat the course, just barely passing the second time.

Even when he could take no more, Severus still could not bring himself to confront Lucius again, afraid of demeaning himself and losing the last ties which he had to the one he loved. Little did he know that it was not just guilt and shame at abandoning him that drove the other in his efforts to help, as the months passed by he continued to think of Severus, feeling loneliness return to him as he surrounded himself with people whom he thought of as wolves, hyenas and jackals.

Lucius began to question his decision, in the solitary hours when he lay in bed unable to sleep. Memories of Snape recurred to him and he felt himself longing to see him again, questioning the difficult choice which he had made. Yet in his heart he believed it would be wrong to indulge such desires half way, that it would leave Severus feeling broken and manipulated, and so, when morning came, he continued in his resolve to keep back.

Even from afar, Lucius began to observe a gradual change in Snape. When he watched from one of the castle towers as Severus went on his walks along the grounds, regular as clockwork, he could see that the boy was no longer alone – he was joined by a Gryffindor student, a girl with striking red hair by the name of Lily Evans.

At first she was but an occasional companion, yet as the year drew on, the two of them became nearly inseparable. Lucius did not try to obscure from himself how obviously jealous he felt, at the same time feeling betrayed by how soon the other’s feelings were transferred onto another object of adoration. He was not certain if such a complete and irreversible turn had taken place yet but felt that it was inevitable if he did nothing.

He remembered clearly the desperation in the boy’s eyes during the first and last time that he had seen him in tears, the strength of his yearning for affection, for love. As much as he tried to put up an impervious front between his feelings and prying eyes, he was suffocating inside from that which he so desperately lacked – something which all that was human in a heart could not help but need.

Realizing what was surely to come, Lucius’s fear of losing Severus made him sensible to the fact that he could not afford to wait, to take his time in deciding which of his two desires he was most willing to lose. While one loomed far in the distance, the other seemed to be approaching uncomfortably nearer, naturally growing in precedence as he imagined himself forgotten and forsaken by the one whose love he dared not reciprocate, weighed against the selfish and material things which he took for granted. Finding a desolate place in one of the castle towers, Lucius took out a piece of parchment and quill, beginning to write:

_That night, when I realized how I felt for you, I wrote to my mother for guidance. I realized that my feelings were something that I could not hide from you for long, nor did I desire to. Until I met you, what I wanted above all else was to become a man who is worthy of the name of Malfoy, to bring honor to my father, who until then believed me to be weak and insincere in my adherence to the principles which he longed to instill in me. My mother did not share these prejudices and having no one else to turn to, I foolishly sought to entrust my secret with her, asking if there may be some means by which you and I would be allowed to hope, in defiance to my rightful path. I am nearly of age and soon the time will come when I shall be bound to an engagement, something which I have postponed to think about, hoping that my sense of duty would suffice when the time came -- that I would learn to love Her as my mother had learned to love my father._

_ Their union was arranged before they were born, while mine was contracted six years ago with the House of Black. Perhaps it may shock you that I am discussing matrimonial matters while I have yet to openly declare my feelings. It is by a foolish faith in you that I write as I do, I believe you to be a person of enduring loyalty and sincerity of feeling, I therefore cannot pursue your affections with dishonorable intentions, and if I am to allow our feelings to progress beyond the proper bounds of friendship, I must be able to vow myself as yours, and to possess you as mine. Nothing less will suffice by my notions of love, naïve or unnatural as they may be. _

_A part of me regrets how I have treated you, leaving you to wonder at the rift which I have formed between us, but I had felt that it was the more benevolent alternative. I wished for you to believe that I am an unfit object for your love, a love that I cannot return. My father has learned of my previous letter and had made inquiries regarding your history, deeming you unworthy of my friendship, let alone my love – a hideous thing, a form of madness, something that must be destroyed. When I of late returned to Malfoy manor, the lashings which are the lot of house elves were reserved for me. But these punishments and others only served to increase my loathing, but not my courage. You must understand what it would mean for me to be disinherited, I must deliberate further whether I am prepared to make such sacrifices. I am sorry Severus if in the end I am the one who fails you, casting shadows of doubt as to whether I ever knew what lay dormant inside of your heart. I did know and already I can foresee that I am unable to let go of what I am to be and take the risk that a nobler spirit than mine would take for the sake of the heart pangs of youth. _

_It is a stronger will than mine, that would give up power and fortune for shame and disgrace. It is perhaps an insignificant promise that I shall now make to you, a vow of friendship. A friendship that will be as true and enduring as the love that I cannot show you. I swear to you that I shall always remain by your side and use all of my resources to further your happiness and success. I shall never abandon you Severus, I dare not ask for your forgiveness, I may only hope that one day I may prove myself deserving of it._

_Forever Yours,_

_Lucius Malfoy _

He sat on the step of the gloomy staircase, reading what he had written and waiting for the ink to fully dry. When he had set out to finish the letter his intention was to give it to Severus that very night, only as he read the words, he grew more uncertain – fearing to do something rash. Furthermore, as he reread message, Lucius was reminded of the night when his father had intercepted his owl to his mother and assured him that he would put every possible obstacle in front of him if it was his foolish intention to disgrace the family. He would not keep such a son, Mr.Malfoy assured him – and when it came to threats, he was a man of his word.

So many years later, when few of the traces of youth lingered for Lucius did he offer Severus the letter. Still sealed and folded for so long that the ink had faded, Severus opened it, taking some time to recognize the penmanship of the other’s student years which looked almost like that of another person. Before he could enquire as to the meaning of the letter, he began to read, and at once he understood.


	20. Chapter 20

“I-I thought that it was too late,” spoke Lucius, “that I had no choice but to live with the errors of my youth. And yet – here we find ourselves, our paths winding back to one another“

“Although it was painful for me to accept at the time, I am not certain that I would have done otherwise if I was in your shoes, if I had had the same opportunities laid out before me – against the love of a brooding half-blood youth,” answered Severus, holding the letter. “I wish that you had explained your reasons to me, given me a sense of closure, but in the end I believe I had always known them deep down, that your family would look upon someone of my position with disdain – that I had few attractions to drive you to defy them, the more I wanted you the less tactful I became, I remember how I would lose my temper because of you. I could not stand indifference – I would have rather had your wrath than your apathy. But we were only children then, you and I, as strong our feelings might have seemed then, they may well have burnt themselves out if given the opportunity – our clashing temperaments and our pride, the many obstacles and pressures against us may have sundered us even if we had both been prepared to oppose them for the sake of what we believed was love. We can never know what our future would have been – we only see now, as you have said, that we have been given this second chance. Whether we deserve it or not, and I feel that it is this that weighs upon you still, is irrelevant. I would rather that you stopped holding onto that guilt and lived instead in the present, as unpleasant as it is to think of, we may not have long together on this earth”

There was a long silence between them as Severus looked into the other’s eyes, thinking of how beautiful he still looked, remembering too, the image of Lucius as he had been when a young man.

“You are right Severus,” he bowed his head, “your introspection yields greater wisdom than mine, as I still chase after mirages”

“If the gift that you wish to offer me is what I presume it to be, then I accept it,” he gazed down at the box which the other man still held, “I too want to revisit those mirages as you have called them. The dangers of altering the past are great, yet imagining it now, as we would have liked it to have been – it would please me Lucius, it would please me very much”

He took a single strand of the dark hair from the ribbon and placed it into his glass. Lucius, hesitating for a moment, opened the locket, doing likewise with a length of blond hair.

Severus smiled at him, his face beginning to blush as he contemplated his glass, trying to remember clearly what he had looked like in his youth, what Lucius had looked like.

At the same time, they drank the potion, wincing at the terrible taste but nevertheless swallowing it down to the dregs.

After some time, the magic began to take effect.

They grew shorter and lankier, the wrinkles on their faces disappearing, their clothing appearing oversized upon their thin shoulders. As each man regarded the other’s transformation, they found it impossible not to smile at how remarkable it was, how lovely the other looked shrouded in nostalgic reminisces and hopeful daydreams which had never come to pass. Although such spells were common enough, it seemed almost strange to them then that they had never thought of the idea before. Of course it was impossible that either of them could have suggested it, before they had gone through what they had together and felt safe to reveal long harbored feelings which they could have well taken to the grave -- if it had not been for the misfortunes which had drawn them closer, revealing the love and friendship which withstood the tests of time.

Tentatively, Severus approached the edge of the water, looking down at his reflection in the smooth glass-like surface illuminated dreamily by the soft blue light and the warmth of the fiery globes above. Lucius followed him, looking curiously at his own image and then turning to young Severus, kissing him lightly upon the cheek. The other man smiled at him, returning the kiss upon his lips. With some bashfulness, they began to disrobe, trying the water’s temperature before stepping in. Severus felt like laughing, he felt so incredibly happy, as if he truly was young again.

Only in his heart he was far from resembling the boy he had been at seventeen. A thousand cares had slipped off his shoulders and he felt that he had everything that he could ever desire. The uncertainty and impotent longing, the insecurity and frustration – all of these things receded into the distance.

They swam in the beautiful marble pond, as Severus admiringly pointed out the details of the statues and the architecture, elements of which had been inspired by the Moorish alcazars of Spain. Diving into the water, the dark-haired wizard beheld golden fish of various shapes and sizes encrusted with opals and pearls, swimming around him by means of enchantment. The floor which he saw was of a shimmering white sand, along which were strewn shells and treasures, as if the kings of the world had spilled their wealth into the sea.

Captivated by the fantasy realm, it was some time before Severus had realized that he was breathing underwater. The slim form of Lucius swam beside him and his eyes lingered upon the other’s pale body which seemed then the most pleasing of all of the illusions that surrounded him. Only as he looked closer did he notice that there were black bruises and scars upon the youth’s legs which stirred him out of his dreamy state of happiness. He swam up to the surface, his friend following after him.

“Those injuries, on your legs – what were they from?” Severus asked him. The other wizard’s expression changed to one of confusion. He climbed out of the water and examined his body.

“Oh, I see,” Lucius touched the wounds, which caused him to wince slightly. “I must confess that this is not my body, but that of my father when he was around the same age as you appear now. I was unable to find a lock of my hair from the same period and so I thought that this would perhaps be a passing substitute – relatives would often remark how much alike we looked, and from old photographs I could easily agree. The locket had been a gift to my mother during the time of their engagement,” he explained.

“So you do not know what these marks are from?” said Severus, sitting upon the edge of the water beside his beloved, putting his arm around him.

“I have a suspicion, but I would rather not speak of it,” answered Lucius, jumping back into the water and gesturing for him to follow. Severus considered for a moment and entered the pond after him.

Lucius created a fountain which pushed Severus up as if upon a column, then letting him fall back into the water, laughing with pleasure, trying to forget all unpleasant thoughts and enjoy their time together as much as possible. They swam and created large tidal waves waging a playful sea battle against each other, feeling like children again. Sculptures of water would move upon the surface in the image of merfolk and Grecian sea deities, reminding them of the games of wizard chess which they had played in the days of old. They enjoyed themselves until they were completely exhausted.

Lying down beside the water, they talked while taking in the remarkableness of seeing each other as youth again, feeling as though they were reliving a long forgotten memory which had been stored away as a precious keepsake, taken out when they needed it most.

Once they were dry again, they put on their robes, sensing that the polyjuice potion would not last long. It was bittersweet to return to their natural bodies, but they both felt that it was best this way.

“When I look at you now, all I can think of is that I know every inch of you much better than I could have ever hoped to then – mind, body and soul; that you are yourself with me, and I can be myself with you,” said Severus, the wrinkles upon his face and his graying hair slowly returning, “I am no longer afraid that you do not want me as I am”

“I shall always love you Severus,” he kissed him, both of them closing their eyes as they savored the moment of happiness.

“It is blissful,” said Severus when their lips parted at last, “thank you for this beautiful gift”

“I am glad that it has made you happy,” Lucius looked at him affectionately, helping him up onto his feet, “when Draco was a boy I would at times build various fantasy worlds inspired by books and travels with my father, carving strange creatures from mythology and making puzzles for him to unravel,” he explained, “I suppose it has been a long time since I attempted something of the sort – I thought that you too might enjoy a bit of fantasy, although a part of me was admittedly anxious that you might have appreciated a more practical gift”

“It is good that you had taken the risk Lucius, I am not merely the pedantic potions master buried in his books and vile ingredients,” he smirked, “I believe that everyone longs after a secret dreamworld, to escape the burdens of reality, even for a short while -- to relive the best moments of the past, improving and expanding upon them until they take their ideal form”

“It is not just for your cleverness that I fell in love with you, I always knew that you were a sentimental creature, as much as you tried to hide it,” answered Lucius, pushing a stray strand of hair behind Severus’s ear, “it is what I craved after most, in a world where everyone hides their emotions behind a mask”

“Not everyone keeps such company as we did,” said Severus, reflecting on the unpleasantness of his former life, feeling as if he had lived as a servant and a spy working towards objectives and ambitions that were not his own in the service of the Dark Lord, and even for Dumbledore; he wondered if the headmaster ever truly realized the toll it had upon him, the endless stress under which he was burdened, and the lack of satisfaction which he felt in his work – on both sides, forever suspected as an imposter and a traitor.

“I wish for no other companion than you,” said Lucius, “perhaps it is selfish, to want to keep you to myself”

“Although it feels isolating at times, to be exiled from the wizarding world, overall I do not know if we would have been as happy there as we are now”

“Granted, I know that you miss it -- as do I,” said Lucius, “as the day is still young, perhaps we could venture a visit – with the precaution of the masks of course”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes – I would like to take you out to dinner and the opera, we have hardly had any proper dates”

“To think that our forties should be the most romantic years of our lives,” smiled Severus


	21. Chapter 21

The two wizards were pushed forward in a crush of people struggling to exit the train, maneuvering heavy bags which swung down dangerously from overhead racks. Narrowly avoiding a concussion, a beak-nosed old man with a shriveled prune-like face tottered out, pulling his friend by the sleeve behind him. Much flustered, Mr.Malfoy brushed off his coat and looked about him at the multiple channels through which the crowds were dispersing, trying to figure out which way they ought to go. He bore a similar hoary disguise, characterized by a bushy white beard, eyebrows and mustache which obscured most of his face. Even with these precautions, they carried with them the invisibility cloak, Polyjuice potion and of course their wands close at hand.

After something of a struggle at the exit gates as a result of a misplaced ticket, they finally succeeded in exiting the station. With reference to a magic compass, passed over several maps of the city which were thereby committed to the object’s memory, they made their way to the opera house. 

Braving great gusts of wind and unruly motorcars, they still managed to enjoy some of the new and familiar sights along the boulevards after Severus had finished rebuking the other for using magic to change the seat number on their tickets and then refusing to surrender the first class seats to the irate Muggle that came to claim it midway through their journey. The ticket officer, baffled by the duplicate tickets, did not know which of these two lordly men had the superior claim to it, at last setting things by showing the Muggle to another seat right behind Lucius, where by vindictiveness or restlessness he made to accidentally kick the back of the imposter’s seat every so often, impervious to glares or vague threats of punishments he could only dream of.

“Really Severus, you surprise me,” Lucius took Severus’s arm under his to make him walk faster, eager to get out of the cold, “I never knew you to be so diffident. Let us not spoil the evening bickering about that weasel-faced baboon”

“Indeed,” muttered Severus, glancing at the other ironically, for like the Muggle, he too had something distinctly weasel-like about him by the effects of the transfiguring mask such that he could hardly attempt anything like flirtation without appearing ridiculous. 

“Would you turn away from me now dearest, when I am withered by age?” Lucius, detecting the insult, put his arm around Snape’s waist, drawing him to his hip.

“Are we not already late?” Snape tried to pull himself out of the other’s grasp, giving him a piercing stare of warning.

“You_ are_ a feisty one,” smirked Lucius, teasing him unrepentantly.

“Behave yourself,” snapped Severus, embarrassed as a snub-nosed woman and her two girls walked past them with bemused looks and one of fixed disproval, hurrying the young ladies along. 

“Until tonight,” he whispered close to his ear and then released the flustered professor.

Severus stalked on in silence through the slush-covered streets, dodging passersby and checking from the corner of his eye that Lucius was keeping pace. At some point he felt himself composed again and slowed down his pace, glancing again at the other wizard, his haughty demeanor apparent even through the goblin-like figure.

“I look forward to being with you,” Severus began, coughing once to draw the man’s attention, “perhaps there is something that we… could try together,” he spoke unexpectedly, this time in a serious tone, which despite his efforts revealed something of his nervousness, as did the burning on his cheeks which may have been merely from the cold.

“Oh? Well then…I shall likewise look forward to it,” Lucius looked at him with surprise, not anticipating such confidences after his apparent rudeness. “I am sorry for my indiscretion Severus, I thought only to amuse you. You are such a tempting subject after all,” he smiled, “now what is it that you have in mind for us?”

“We will talk about it when we get home,” said the wizard, somewhat regretting that he mentioned it, “on a related note, you know how I feel about public displays of affection or anything of the sort,” he added, trying to change the subject.

Lucius was going to say that it was more in mockery at their hideousness than a show of affection per say, but decided against it in case that may cause further offense. He felt a secret delight that Severus trusted him and wondered at what kind of strange desires would be revealed to him later that night – knowing it was better not to press him further in the meantime lest he should have second thoughts.

“I shall endeavor to restrain myself in the future,” he replied with as somber a voice as he could muster, “I must say, with the exception of your biting sarcasm you are always such a serious fellow, it would not hurt to take a more lighthearted approach every now and again – show a bit of indulgence”

“Yes well, you have never been a professor or you would know what it is to show indulgence”

“I would not dare to question your rule at Hogwarts, your reputation as an effective disciplinarian precedes you”

Severus said nothing, not certain if Lucius’s words were sarcasm, an attempt at flattery, or some kind of innuendo – believing it best to let it go unanswered.

Many shop fronts were decorated with Christmas ornaments and in the distance they could see a large pond surrounded by trees hung with blue and silver garlands of light. The smell of gingerbread and butter biscuits wafted temptingly from one of the bakeries, while a dog tied to a bicycle rack growled menacingly at the two wizards who bounded past it in a hurry.

With all of their efforts, they had missed the first act of ‘Faust’ and attempts at persuasion were necessary to gain admittance. Finally, the door was opened for them and they searched about for their seats in the dark, causing some disgruntled murmurs amongst the audience in the row which they entered – then having to turn and retrace their steps – it being the wrong one. Lucius vainly tried to hush Severus’s unapologetic assertions that the 7 he thought he had seen was most distinctly unlike a 1.

With snow-drenched shoes and heavy coats, they tried to settle in their seats and make themselves comfortable after the commotion of getting there. It was some time before they could focus on the voice of the singer. 

With a pair of enchanted binoculars, they gazed down at the expressions and costumes of the actors and the elaborate decorations of the stage, of gardens, forests and city streets with their slanting buildings and quaint roofs reminding them of Diagone Alley. The binoculars, by the will of he who gazed through them, presented what one saw in an amplified form – making the fair extraordinarily beautiful and the slightly unpleasant frighteningly grotesque according to various gradients so as to increase the likelihood of an emotional reaction.

It had been a long time since either of them had attended a Muggle theater of any kind, and although the performance left them largely unmoved, a part of the reason was due to a distracted frame of mind which only half registered the story which unfolded upon the stage. As they sat beside each other gazing at the illuminated figures below, Lucius rested his hand upon Severus’s, who smiled to himself in the dark theater room, feeling the warmth of happiness in his chest as he thought about what it was to have someone that loved him after so many years passed in loneliness.

There was a mixture of anticipation, gladness and a bit of anxiety about being there together after their time of exile. It was not the wizarding world, but it was something. Something that they felt was better than the near-complete reclusiveness of their day to day lives since moving to the country house. Especially in the light of the apparent failure of their recent attempt at visiting the neighbors, as half-hearted as it had been. If anything, it had the effect of increasing the natural urge for secrecy and suspicion, rather than bringing some sense of belongingness amongst Muggles.

It was pleasant to feel that they were more or less unobtrusive in the city, where a multitude of figures passed one another with little more than a cursory glance, while new sights and attractions presented themselves to their curious gaze. As they walked away from the theater, discussing their interpretations and reactions to various scenes, they paused again by the frozen pond where families and couples had gathered to skate under a canopy of glimmering lights. It was a beautiful and somewhat melancholy sight to behold and Severus wondered if the other missed his wife and child. Neither knew how to skate nor was the courage gathered in time to suggest an attempt as they passed down the boulevard towards another street of shops and restaurants.

Stepping out of the cold, they were ushered to a table in a dim corner and presented with a set of menus. They scanned these in silence as if contemplating a list of ambiguous instructions, overwhelmed by the breadth of choice. After some strained efforts at conversation over the sound of music, they set to sampling the multitude of sushi and tempura dishes arranged to cover most of the table. In the end they realized that they had ordered far more than they could ever hope to eat in a single sitting, forcing them to abandon many a savory dish of their most satisfying banquet, returning to the slush of the wintery streets.

It was eight o’clock when the two wizards headed for the nearest train station to make their way back to their countryside abode. However, before they boarded the train, they released a small mechanical sparrow from a tiny golden cage in the shape of a sphere. As the bird flapped its wings, the shiny metal began to bristle with feathers, its golden beak and tiny feet taking on a natural hue. It quickly darted out of the window and out of sight into the biting night air.

This creature set to its mission straight away, searching out an entrance after a group of witches in matching pink woolen sweaters opportunely on route to a ‘girls night out’. The bird soared over familiar rooftops and alleys of the wizarding town, busy with people even in the cold weather. From their seats in the train, Severus and Lucius peered at a slightly cracked pocket mirror, displaying a nostalgic bird’s eye view.

Their miniature spy peered at billboards and posters wherever it passed, searching for news. From this expedition they learned little that they did not already know from the newspapers, that the Ministry was completely silent or dismissive on all points relating to the return of the Dark Lord and that few controversial sources dared to speculate brazenly against this position.

At the same time, they wondered what maneuvers their old master was making, considering unpleasantly what could occur if he should turn his attention to their glaring absence from his ranks following the Triwizard Tournament. Either he had more pressing matters to attend to or else was waiting for a strategic time to strike down his less than loyal subjects.

It was with a sense of embarrassment that Lucius recalled his indecision at the Dark Lord’s summons, as well as his insincere support during the battle with Potter – feeling that he had acted rashly, influenced by the fears and hopes of other Death Eaters who had reached out to him regarding the dark mark’s resurgence. He had little time to deliberate when the call came, something he had dreaded and anticipated with equal measure, none knew what they would see as they Apprated to the graveyard, feeling some force outside of themselves compel them to hurry to the place where their fallen master would again hold court. That day was ingrained upon his memory with unpleasant vividness, reflected the wizard, gazing out the window awaiting the bird’s return. He realized that he was only half listening as Severus talked about making a similar trip sometime in the future in order to procure rare ingredients. The other wizard nodded in agreement, encouraging him to make a list and set a day.

All things considered they did not regret seeing their familiar haunts from afar. The bold sparrow went as far as to take a cursory look about Borgin and Burkes, in case there were some new and enticing artefacts which had appeared during a certain collector’s absence. After nearly being swatted by a broomstick, the bird took its leave from a bustling tavern, escaping out through the chimney nearly damaging one of its wings.

Although an owl might have been a more reliable choice for the role, the sparrow set off for its final task of picking up a small parcel from the windowsill of a dilapidated looking office. Running behind the planned time, the wizards had to confound the train driver to pause for longer than necessary at one of the stations, believing that he had to allow another train to pass through first, and as result causing more than a few unaccountable missed connections.

Finding its master’s window, the sparrow thrust its feathery body into the cabin and collapsed to the ground in the semblance of something like a watchmaker’s toy.

Looking around to make sure that other passengers were not watching, Severus picked it up and placed it back in their bag, untying the little cloth-wrapped parcel. It contained a tightly rolled up letter the size of a thimble and a piece of raw amethyst set in a silver ring resembling many hands digging into the stone.

After a few hours they had reached their stop, from which about another half hour walk was required to reach the manor house. The shortest way as through an area of woodland and so, creating an orb of light, they illuminated the wet path between the snow-dusted pines. The their footsteps and their voices seemed to be the only sound for miles as they talked about their day, yet the warmth of their conversation was suddenly interrupted by the crack of something moving close by.

Turning, Severus caught sight of a dark figure scrambling onto its feet and racing towards the depth of the woods away from the footpath. With little time to deliberate, the wizard followed in pursuit, his friend gazing after him in a moment of bewilderment, seeing the other disappear into the shadows. Pulling out the invisibility cloak, he draped it over himself and followed in their footsteps, setting the lantern down so that it would not give him away.

For a time he thought that he had lost sight of them but the yell of someone in pain brought his attention to redirect his course. It was difficult to see and so he ventured to use his wand to bring forth several orbs of light which floated ahead of him in the distance, dispelling with some of the advantage of stealth. Even from a distance he could discern the form of Severus struggling with something upon the ground, while standing over him was the trespasser, who in the attempt to hit him with a walking stick, was thrown forcefully against a tree, piles of snow falling upon him from the branches as he lay there in a heap. By the ferocity of his anger, the attacker forced himself up and pounced upon the wizard, struggling with him for the wand clutched tightly in his frost-bitten hands. Running towards them, Lucius was able to see that the other wizard’s leg had been caught in a hunting trap, the wound bleeding profusely onto the stark white snow. The orbs of light floated around them like will-o-wisps, illuminating the agonized expression of Severus as he tried to remove the iron teeth of the trap. As Lucius stooped down to aid him, opening the trap with a spell, but the wizard shooed him away from attempting to heal the wound, with a frantic gesture pointing to where the assailant had ran.

Raising his wand, Lucius sent a pain like daggers shooting through the escaping figure’s neck where a flash of lighting collided. A youth was found writhing in agony upon one of the paths leading to the main road – the stranger was no stranger, they discovered, both recognizing him as the gardener’s son.

Severus staggered to his feet and limped closer towards them, whispering a healing spell in clouds of breath. He had arrived in time to see the last of the boy’s death agonies, his eyes taking on a vacant glazed appearance, his limbs relaxing. It was with a look of horror that Snape regarded the other wizard, who stood by him with an inscrutable expression. They both removed their transfiguring masks.

“What have you done?” exclaimed the dark-haired wizard, turning again to the lifeless gardener in disbelief, searching through his memory for a spell that may yet save him, or else conceal his demise.


	22. Chapter 22

“Do you know something of this vagrant that I do not?” snapped Severus.

“Only that he is under the impression that we have cursed his mother, as her illness had taken a turn for the worse since she had turned us away from her shop – I doubt that you would remember these people, but this deranged boy has clearly not forgotten us,” he answered, taking a slip of paper folded in a pocket journal and presenting it to Severus’s scrutiny. He read an awkwardly scrawled letter of a threatening nature, addressing them with urgency that they must depart from the manor – crossed out, and replaced with ‘from England’, or else meet their downfall.

A sardonic smirk crossed his lips as he finished the short yet vehement message, struck by its melodramatic tone -- wondering what sort of demise the Muggle thought he could manage to bring about. At the same time, a part of him felt it would be callous to dismiss it completely, as even a weak and foolish hand could wreck great mischief given their precarious circumstances.

“Why did you not inform me earlier?” asked Severus, turning again upon the other.

“I did not think it worth your time,” he replied, snatching the paper back from him with a smile and stuffing it into his coat pocket.

“I dare say it displeases me that you have kept this from me, are there any other incidents that I should to know about? For your sake it is best that hear them now”

“Let us return to the house and talk there,” said Lucius, shrouding the body with the invisibility cloak and having it float ahead along the path towards to manor.

In an ill temper, Severus grit his teeth and walked next to him leaning on his arm, still limping from the half-healed gash. “What is the spell which you alluded to?” he asked, wishing to distract himself from the pain.

“It is one of kabalistic origin, having to do with the making of Gollums – animated figures of clay given the semblance of consciousness by way of a magical scroll,” he replied, pleased with the other’s interest, “while I have made some progress with the runes I will of course require your help in preparing the so-called ‘Clay of Life’. We must do it quickly, before decay defaces the form of our friend here”

The necessity for urgent action for a time distracted Severus from his disappointment that the other had kept their potential danger a secret, although he believed that his reasons were well intentioned, he preferred to share in any source of foreboding than to be left in blissful ignorance. Upon reaching the manor, they worked through most of the night, mixing batches of a viscous potion blended with sand and pouring it over the figure of their captured trespasser. As it solidified in plates, they welded them together by magic, various sections requiring different kinds of runes. The clay plates were wrapped in strips of parchment inscribed in green ink and dipped into cauldron of a pungent gray liquid.

The most challenging aspect of the magic however was that accountable for the creature’s consciousness, which was taken in part from what could be salvaged of the youth’s memory as well as components from the wizard’s spell book giving it a complacent nature so as to make it willing to obey its master’s commands.

Even after this work was completed, three or four days would be required for the spell to settle into its new mold, and so leaning towards caution, they left it curled in a locked and bolted chest. In the meantime, they hoped that the gardener’s assistant would not be too greatly missed. Before they were able to go to so much as think about going to sleep they returned to the forest and removed all traces of blood or footprints. Such doings left a most unpleasant impression upon them both, in harsh contrast to the better part of the day.

Cleaning up the potions room to a standard below what Snape would have usually tolerated, they dragged themselves up to the bedroom and changed into their night robes.

“How is your leg?” Lucius inquired, having him sit down upon the bed so that he could examine it.

“I should not have struggled against the trap as much as I had – only made it worse, but it should heal,” answered Severus, climbing under the covers.

Lucius brought him a warmed cup of honey and milk mixed with Draft of Peace in order to help him sleep before joining him in bed. Severus thanked him, taking small sips as he read through later chapters of the book which they had used for the Gollum, finding it hard to stay awake even with the interest he felt in the subject. His thoughts also wandered to the man laying beside him, wondering if he was asleep. Before he could ask, he heard Lucius begin to snore. At this, he nudged him awake, lightly at first, and then more forcefully. With a slight jolt, the other opened his eyes and turned to Snape.

“What is it?” Lucius said irritably, and then remembered that it was still Severus’s birthday, which had had an unfortunately rocky conclusion, “I mean, is there something that you wanted to—“

“You forgot to take your Snorebegone Syrup,” said the dark haired wizard, not looking up from his book.

“Oh – yes, I suppose I have,” he reached into the drawer of the nightstand and took out a small purple bottle, pouring a few drops down his throat with a grimace of disgust.

“Are you planning to go to bed soon?” Lucius said after a pause.

“I would like to finish the chapter,” Snape answered curtly.

Lucius could sense that something was bothering Severus but he did not wish to enquire after it in case it would lead to a late night argument. Still, he felt sorry to simply ignore the fact.

“Thank you, for the birthday,” Severus said suddenly.

“I hope it was not an entirely dreadful day,” Lucius opened his eyes again, sitting up on his elbow to look at the other, who still leaned over the book he was then only pretending to read.

“No, it was not entirely dreadful – it was perhaps one of the best birthdays that I can recall, even with the murder”

“The murder made it even more interesting and memorable, didn’t it – there is nothing more romantic than embalming – ”

“Let us leave it at that,” Severus closed the book sharply, setting it down upon his nightstand.

“Are you sure?” Lucius pulled him back onto the bed before he could so much as turn off the lamp, silencing any protests with kisses. Snape seemed to grow limp in his arms, submitting to the other as he pulled him close and wrapped his arms around him. The wizard returned his embraces, his hands wandering across the other’s back, then to his long hair which felt like silk to the touch. Breathlessly, Severus maneuvered himself on top of Malfoy, kissing his lips and then his neck and collarbone.

“I love you,” he whispered softly, burying his face in the crook of Lucius’s neck. 

“I love you too, my Prince,” he looked at him with affection, stroking his hair. Severus felt both aroused and comforted by the other’s closeness, the gentleness of his touch. He tried not to think but to simply enjoy the moment, trying to sense if it was the right time.

“Lucius – there is something that I want to ask” Severus’s hands clutched at a lock of the other’s hair, and then seemed to smooth the fabric of his sleeve as he stroked the other’s shoulder in awkward affectionateness. 

“I-I have always wondered what it would be like if we could consummated our love in the way of those who may truly marry,” he spoke at last, afraid if he should sound incredibly strange or ridiculous – growing more so during an uncomfortable silence.

“What do you mean Severus?” said Lucius, noticing that the dark-haired man was avoiding his gaze, “it is alright, in any case, I cannot say that I am certain about how exactly you imagine this, but if it means a great deal to you then I am willing to consider whatever it is that you propose”

“I know that it should not matter, even to myself I cannot really explain it. It is not that I wish to become a woman, I do not –“

“I would love you no matter what you wished to be,” Lucius lifted the other’s chin to so their eyes met and kissed him again, desiring to reassure him in case Severus felt afraid to speak openly, “it is your spirit that I have learned to cherish during the time when our circumstances kept us apart, and it is what will remain as we grow old together”

“It is kind of you to say so” said Snape in a barely audible voice.

“I am not being kind – I want you to be happy,” he looked at him earnestly “it is not my intention to be cloying, perhaps I am not particularly good at comforting you in the way that you need, but I meant what I said”

“I am happy, more so than I have been in any other part of my life,” Severus buried his face against the other’s chest.

“I have interrupted you haven’t I, please – tell me, what did you wish to say?”

“I would like for us to be married – I know that it is not possible to do so in the eyes of the world, but I would like to do so by my own ideals. There is a spell, a derivation of the Unbreakable Vow, by which I would follow you into death if something were to happen you – I would like to ask you to grant me this favor, to allow me to perform the spell”

“Such notions of the marriage bond have long fallen into disuse amongst most of wizarding society, indeed there are laws punishing those who have made vows of the kind,” Lucius tried to keep his voice level.

“Only if they had been pressured or coerced,” said Severus, “I would be doing so willingly”

“And would I be reciprocating the vow?”

“No—that is, whether you do so or not is your choice. I would not think less of you regardless, my only wish is to be allowed to honor my devotion to you in this way, so that you may always trust in the sincerity of my feelings”

“I do not doubt your loyalty or your love for me, the vow is unnecessary”

“Perhaps it is unnecessary, but it is my desire. My mother did no less for the man whom she loved, even through all of the pain and heartache she believed that the vow reminded her of her duty and it kept her alive to endure all the trials and tribulations our family had undergone. It is painful for me to recall how my parents would struggle against one other, yet it is my deplorable wish to recreate what could have been with one that is kind and respectful of me even in my weakest times”

“You have told me yourself what it is to give into the influences of the past, I do not know if this is the best way to cope with your unfortunate childhood – I cannot promise that I shall never let you down, never lose my temper or in some ways remind you of how your father had treated your mother during those unhappy years – and in such cases terrible associations will be drawn from the vow which you suggest”

“You have never treated me as he had, even at your worst”

“Nevertheless, I will need time to consider your request. Only I am certain that I shall not agree to an unequal sacrifice – I do not wish to live without such a one as would not live without me. You and I shall live and die as equals,” he took Severus’s hand and held it firmly between his, pressing his lips to the other’s fingers.

“Thank you Lucius,” he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he tried to hold back his emotion.

“What are you thinking of? You may tell me – it is best to get these things off your chest at once than to wait for another opportune moment to present itself”

“Yes, there is something else, yet I have already asked much from you and am afraid that you feel obliged to assent to more than what you think is right, for your love of me. If you feel this way now, and in the morning your clearer judgment – ”

“You may venture to ask it and trust that I will make no promises that I do not intend to keep”

“There is a potion,” Severus began hesitatingly, wishing that there was a way to forgo the explanation, so embarrassing for him to speak of, “it is a transfiguring potion that I have discovered. And… and it would allow me to transform part of my body – that of a man – to that of a woman, for a short time. In this way we may…you understand my meaning do you not? In this way we may be together during this night as man and wife, and I may offer you my virginity without ambiguity whether I have crossed the line of a true union or not. A part of me knows that such notions are misguided and irrelevant, especially amongst such people as ourselves, who are banished from respectable society, nor could ever hope to re-enter it together as anything but friends, yet it will help me to feel complete. Only this one night, we need not repeat the ‘experiment’ as you might wish to call it, its purpose in my imaginings is only of a symbolic nature”

“I believe that I understand your intentions, if only in theory, although I cannot admit to sharing similar views on the matter. Perhaps it is because I have no margin of ambiguity to claim ‘innocence’, as much as I would have liked for you to have been my ‘first’ and my only one. I hope that what we have shared is nevertheless enough of a sincere union in your eyes, as it is in mine,” said Lucius, something of sadness in his voice.

He found it curious how abashed Severus still was to speak of intimacy and regretted some of his preoccupations, fearing that he fell short of the other man’s ideals, being divorced and the father of a son, rather than one who had waited to be with the person he truly loved. He wondered how many such people existed, thinking what a rare being Severus was.

Lucius considered how during all of their time together they had yet remained rather innocent in many ways compared to what might have been. Severus would often be satisfied without removing his clothes, feeling greatly embarrassed by his own body and only allowing his beloved to undress him in the darkness to touch his bare skin. Despite many efforts he could in no way be persuaded that the other wizard found him alluring, his longing struggling against his sense of shame. Lucius likewise felt frustrated desires inhibited by a certain melancholy ever since his descent from a privileged position, to that of an outcast, as well by a fear of causing offense or displeasure for Snape.

Over the passing months he had grown used to their strange and perhaps prudish forms of intimacy, having little in the way of prior expectations – his notions of male love being vague and exclusive to the man who shared his exile. Severus rarely failed to satisfy him as long as he felt the other’s desire, the warmth of his body pressed against him, the touch of his hands, so unlike the cold tolerance of the wife who had left him. Severus seemed to savor him, trembling at the affection he longed to receive, he could see the admiration in his eyes, a pleasure at knowing that Lucius was his and that they need not keep their romantic feelings from one another.

Severus explained the potion to him, rising from the bed and taking a porcelain box from a locked drawer. Opening it he took out a jar containing the potion in the form of a cream which he would apply between his thighs once they turned off the light. Feeling Severus climb back under the covers, Malfoy felt somewhat nervous about the experiment but tried his best to appear open to the attempt for the sake of his beloved, his mind still lingering on the thought that their love could never be acceptable in the eyes of society, something that he had thought had lost its meaning for those in hiding from both the Ministry and the Dark Lord.

He felt Severus tentatively move closer, kneeling on the mattress beside him, his cold hands touching him under his long night robe and then moving down to his waist to remove his undergarments. Due to the discomfort they both felt, there was a lack some of the usual tenderness between them as Lucius proceeded to reciprocate the other’s advances, pulling Severus to lay down upon him, kissing him with an ardor he did not yet feel. 

“Are you certain that this is what you want?” said Lucius when their lips separated

“It does not seem right, not like this,” answered Snape.

“We can take our time”

Severus waivered, wondering if this was truly what he wanted, feeling less certain about his motives.

“We do not have to”

“No – we do not have to, would you be happier if we didn’t?”

“I-I am not sure, I must seem delusional to you, and I have hurt you – I can tell from your voice, I am sorry –“

“Do not say sorry, nothing has changed between us, not for me,” he answered, feeling Severus draw away and curl up on one side of the mattress, “I am only concerned that this will not suffice”

“This -- it is not necessary, I know that you love me and that is enough. You do not have to, please know that. What we share is all that I could have ever hope for and more”

Lucius did not know what to say, uncertain if what Severus had spoken was only the result of guilt. Then he felt Snape’s hand on his cheek, stroking his face, the other’s lips kissing his half closed eyes.

“I do not mind this, if you would still like to”

“Would it please you, if we made love tonight…or would it feel strange, after all that had happened?”

He did not answer, feeling too tired to trust himself with words. He wanted to show Snape the affection that he craved and was willing to oblige him in what he desired on his birthday, sensing that whether he himself would enjoy it depended most on the mood which they shared rather than the change in the other’s body. As they continued to hold and caress each other both felt more relaxed and affectionate. Severus felt some pain when they made love that night but tried to ignore it, focusing on the other’s face and the movements of his body. All the while Snape was rather tense and stressed but still managed to find pleasure in the experience and it seemed that his beloved did too. When at last it was finished for both of them, Lucius spooned the other wizard as they lay very tired ready to fall asleep.

…

When morning came there was much discussion over breakfast not only about the Gollum but also the collector of curiosities, whose two letters laid unanswered upon the table – one asking their opinion on a list of esoteric books by modern Muggle authors which they had never heard of, and another, inviting them to join a pheasant hunting party to take place on the following Sunday.

They decided to put these things aside for something that they hoped would raise their spirits – the removal of the Dark Mark upon their wrists and the magic with which it was imbued binding them as servants. This was to be accomplished by means of the ring that the sparrow had carried to them.

The point of the ring was slowly traced over the outline of the mark so that the magic was drawn within – dark ink flowing through the violet-hued core of crystal. The process was excruciatingly painful, as if the mark was being burned into them anew, but they hoped that it had had the desired effect of severing their old allegiance and protecting them from being tracked or summoned by their old master. It was then that Lucius brought forward the subject of the vow, giving his consent and likewise binding his own life to that of Severus.

…

For the rest of the day, Severus remained by the fireplace, indisposed by the injury to his leg which had been a source of no small amount of discomfort during the previous night. Although the external signs of the wound had largely healed, he knew that it was best not to put strain upon it for those aspects of the injury that had to be left to heal by natural processes. He also felt another kind of pain in the area of his groin, which he was less willing to mention to Lucius but at last confessed when asked about how he felt after the previous night. They both were of the opinion that they could go without repeating the spell and did not speak much further about the matter.

Lucius brought him books related to their work on the Gollum, as he still felt that there was a great deal of uncertainty around how well the magic would work, these would have to be thoroughly tested before the being was to be introduced into ‘society’. They therefore set themselves to researching what may be found in their library, as well as sending for additional books from a bibliography of magical texts. Their list was forwarded to one of Lucius’s agents by means of the automaton sparrow – although they did not hope to receive their parcel in under a fortnight.

For their afternoon meal, they tried to make use of some of the Muggle cookbooks left at the house, their efforts leaving them with a somewhat deflated cheese souffle and a more than satisfactory lasagna. Clearing away the dishes with some household magic, Lucius then proposed to pay a visit to Mr.Tensington, not only as an obligatory social call but to find out if the meddlesome youth had been missed yet. Severus thought that they could wait a bit longer before making such an excursion and the other acquiesced. Feeling restless, he ventured outside for a walk around the grounds, instinctively avoiding the part of the woods where they had encountered the youth. He went as far as the town, where he picked up some groceries and other necessities before turning back before sunset.

He was surprised to find that Severus was not in the library nor in his room, at last discovering him in the chamber designated for his potions and experiments. For the passing months he had been left to his own designs, sharing some of these endeavors with Lucius while keeping others to himself until they reached a far enough stage to have any decent likelihood of success. There was one particular project, taking precedence above the others: a form of magic which would protect one against the Dementor’s kiss. The complex spell was focused into a tiny crystal, the size of a grain of sand, which was to be implanted into the tooth of the victim. The crystal would contain the simulacrum of a soul, made out of poignant memories of the dead, which would exhaust the attacking Dementor as it would strive to feed upon them, the spirits being in a realm far out of reach even from its determine grasp.

That evening, when Severus at last showed the other wizard the progress of his work, it was acknowledged that it was impossible to tell how effective the crystal was until it was put to the test – something that was both dangerous and impractical. The only idea which came to mind was to use a boggart for an initial trial, although procuring one may well be an obstacle. Lucius told Snape that he would see to it himself, thinking of some of his old connections involved in the underground trade in magical creatures. The more they discussed the opportunity more optimism flowed through them, while revealing additional complications around making a successful escape if they were ever captured, none as insurmountable as being robbed of a soul.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope that you enjoyed this chapter -- I would love to hear your thoughts/reactions to the story. 
> 
> Best wishes!


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